


History in the Making

by areyoutherelarry



Series: Ziam Military AU [1]
Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Military, Anal Sex, Face-Fucking, Fluff and Angst, Frottage, Kid Fic, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-12
Updated: 2014-04-15
Packaged: 2018-01-08 10:11:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 15
Words: 45,229
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1131403
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/areyoutherelarry/pseuds/areyoutherelarry
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Liam, a soldier, and Zayn, an art therapist, meet at an art fair and immediately are attracted to each other, but Zayn has a kid and a dead fiancée and Liam has a career to think about.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, this is a continuation or rather a prologue to A Late Christmas Present.  
> Anyways, there's a lot to warn you about. This takes place in 2008 and everyone is from America. Also, the age differences are the same but Zayn is 25 when this story starts. That wasn't too much right?  
> The title comes from "Crazy in Love" by Beyonce.

            It’s not that Zayn hates art fairs; okay, well on some level it is that Zayn hates art fairs. He deplores all the gawking. They gawk at his art, they gawk at him, and they gawk at the price tags. There is just infinitely too much gawking at art shows; it’s not that he doesn’t like this art show. He’s done it the last two Aprils with Paul, the owner of the little gallery he’s shown at since he moved back to New York to start his career as an art therapist. This fair is exactly what he likes about art, making it accessible, making it for everybody. It’s just that he hates being on display.

            “Buck up,” Louis orders, nudging into his side. Zayn still hasn’t gotten used to this Louis. The Louis that is now part of the Gypsy cast. The Louis who wears suspenders and styles his hair more than any person Zayn knows. Louis is such a method actor it’s unbelievable. Last year, when Louis had been part of The Pirate Queen cast, he’d walked around wearing billowy shirts and leather vests, speaking in an accent Zayn didn’t know if he could pinpoint on a map, and the best part had been his long hair that Zayn had mercilessly teased him about. “And look at that attractive thing that just walked in.”

            Louis is pointing at a lanky guy in all black with a ridiculous scrap of fabric in his hair. At first, Zayn thinks the kid is alone, which is slightly strange until he turns to talk to two guys who are so clearly military it hurts. One has flattop blonde hair and seems to be bouncing slightly as he walks. The other guy has his arms crossed over his chest, biceps bulging. His hair is buzzed close to his skull and he’s smiling at something the blond is saying.

            It hits Zayn hard in the navel; the coil of attraction that makes him a little woozy. He hasn’t felt it in a long time, not since Perrie and not in this way in a long fucking time. There isn’t anything extremely remarkable about the man; there’s no doubt that he’s attractive but he’s definitely no Adonis. He is, however, what Zayn suddenly wants, like right now. He’s wearing a plaid shirt, rolled up to his elbows, khakis, and military-issue boots. He has four chevrons tattooed on his arm and a smile tattooed on his lips. Louis is still drawling on, but Zayn cannot comprehend a word he’s saying.

            Zayn is studying the man’s profile when he suddenly turns and begins scanning the room. His eyes land on Zayn and his face actually glows with a grin that could be bottled and distributed. He nudges scarf-head who turns and dimples in his direction. Their eyes are on him and he wonders if they’re smiling because they’ve caught him staring or if they’re smiling through him. Zayn swivels to face Louis and stares at his prominent jaw. For a second, he’s just staring at the skin as it stretches over the muscles and bones as they flex in an intricate dance of words. Out of his peripheral, he sees the threesome walking towards them.

            “Say something,” Zayn demands.

            Louis huffs, “I’ve been talking this whole time, you prick.”

            Louis looks at him, sees the self-doubt that’s started to creep across his expression, and begins spinning wildly looking for Zayn’s source of insecurities.  His eyes land on the threesome striding towards them.

            “Surely, couldn’t be hipster-head,” Louis mumbles and Zayn snorts, “O my, chevrons?”

            Zayn makes an obscene noise in the back of his throat and Louis actually titters. Zayn wonders if he should’ve tried to hide it better because he definitely doesn’t like the gleam in Louis’s eye.

            “I thought this day would never come,” Louis exalts looking up at the ceiling and then at Paul who has started walking towards them.   

            “Paulie, Zayn has a crush on a customer,” Louis sing-songs.

            “How many times do I have to tell you to not call me that?”

            “Paulie,” Louis whines and Paul glares harder, “Sorry, couldn’t hear you over the excitement buzzing in my ears. Our Zaynie has a crush.”

            “Fucking shit, Lou,” Zayn mumbles.

            There’s no doubting it now; the threesome is making a beeline for their booth. They’re pushing through the crowd diagonally against the flow of traffic, and their path will lead them directly to the gallery’s display.  Zayn’s not sure what to peruse. It would be pretty vain to stare at his own works, but the booth is rather bare except for his stuff and a few pieces from the other artists at the gallery. He stares at the closest chef-d'oeuvre, which is a painting of ruined desserts, and it’s just mind grabbing enough to soothe his breathing and seem like he’s actually interested.

            He hears Louis’s boisterous greeting, but he doesn’t turn, just stares at the overturned pies on the canvas in front of him. Louis is rambling until Zayn hears the cadence of his voice change and he knows Louis has delved completely into Lothario mode, except he’s not seducing women, but curly-haired hipsters with penchants for ripping up t-shirts to tie on their heads.

            He’s usually not this jittery, he honestly, lately, hasn’t given a fuck about anything but himself and Taj.  This newfound attraction has made him revert to a shy teenager. The last eighteen months have been absolute shit since Perrie died and being cautious hasn’t been an option. He’s had to get out there and get to work; he moved back home after setting up a life in Chicago. A life that he sometimes misses because of its idyllic qualities. Getting a job at the juvenile detention center and moving closer to his family and Louis was so incredibly important. After all the tragedy he and his little boy had faced, dropping his shyness, at least for a while, had been worth it. Even though all that fronting, regularly, left him drained and irritable.   

            “You’re Zayn Malik, right?” A voice knocks him out of his reverie.  It’s “chevrons” and he’s smiling amicably.

            “Yeah.”

            “My mom adores you,” He states matter-of-factly.

            “Uh,” Zayn stumbles over anything he was going to say because that’s nothing of what he expected, not that he was sure what to expect from this tough-looking man, “Thanks?”

            “O, right, well,” “Chevrons” fumbles over his words, “I wanted to get her something she would really like for Mother’s Day, right, because I’ve been gone for so long, and am probably going to get deployed again. I just want to make it the best day for her. I saw that you were selling here and she just adores your stuff ever since you were in ARTNews.  I thought it would be worth a try to buy something being as it’s the Affordable Art Show.”

            “Anything in particular you were looking for?” Zayn asks.

            “No, anything from you will just kill her,” “Chevrons” assures and Zayn’s eyes widen a little because if he had been an asshole he would’ve been easier to forget about, “You know figuratively, I mean.”

            “Yeah, sure, everything’s for sale, just let me know what you like,” Zayn says and “chevrons” beams in response.

            “Chevrons” is not an art critic, but he examines Zayn’s pieces with a concerted look that makes Zayn even more attracted to him. He spends the most time in front of one of the smaller paintings. It’s an abstract cool-toned painting that Zayn named “Taj”. He painted it right after Perrie had died and he’d been so worried about how Taj was coping. After he’d finished the painting, he’d etched an outline of the Taj Mahal into it because Perrie had always called their son that when she was being silly.

            “I’m almost scared to ask,” “Chevrons” says, “How much for ‘Taj’?”

            “How much can you afford?” Zayn asks.

            “No, I don’t want you to do that.”

            “Just tell me.”

            “Two hundred, maybe, two fifty.”

            “Well, that’s perfect because it’s two hundred.”

            “It’s not, but I appreciate the offer. Do you have anything for two hundred? Maybe a print?”

            “No, buy ‘Taj’, I want you to have it.”

            “You don’t even know me,” “Chevrons” says flabbergasted and Zayn shrugs, “You don’t even know my name.”

            “So tell me your name.”

            “Liam,” he provides, “But honestly, do you have like a sketch or something.”

            “Liam, give me the two-hundred dollars and take that piece to your mom.”

            “I… okay… I really appreciate it.”

            “You’re welcome.”

            He takes Liam’s check and wraps up the painting for him.

            “Could I take a picture with you?” Liam asks, “My mom would love that.”

            “Yeah, of course.”

            “Niall, come here,” he barks, and the blonde spins around, “Take a picture, please?”

            Zayn stands next to Liam and feels the heat rolling off the larger man’s body. Liam puts a hand in the middle of Zayn’s back and he has to hold back the gasp that wants to escape his lips.

            “Thanks, again.”

            “Yeah.”

            Liam and Niall walk away to find the curly-haired one who is chatting, well it’s probably flirting since Zayn know Louis’s flirting stance, with Louis. He can hear Louis’s rowdy laughter and the curly-haired one’s dimples are showing on his rosy-tinted cheeks.

            “Malik, you’re such a sappy shit,” Louis says as he nearly skips over to Zayn.  Zayn rolls his eyes.

            “Chevrons…” Louis begins.

            “Liam,” Zayn corrects softly.

            “Liam,” he draws out, “is going out tonight with us.”

            “We’re going out tonight,” Zayn asks curiously.

            “Fuck yeah.”

            “But Louis, I thought we were going to cuddle tonight and watch movies.”

            “Zayn, my dear, I can cuddle with you whenever I want, but tonight I want to fuck that curly-haired princess.”

            “Louis,” Zayn groans and Louis just smirks in response.

* * *

            It takes Liam and Niall over an hour to get to Harry’s apartment from base on public transportation, and Liam wishes he was back at Fort Bragg where he could travel eleven miles in less than twenty minutes.  This whole big city business hurts his Midwestern sensibilities.

            “That took forever,” Liam whines.

            “Welcome to the Big Apple, my hulking friend,” Niall says.

            “The only good thing is I can maybe meet this Malik guy and get my mom something for Mother’s Day. But I’d be happy to go back to Fort Bragg or better yet, to Fort Des Moines to get away from this traffic.”

            “You’re mom, the Midwest housewife and art aficionada.”

            “She’s obsessed with this guy’s art.”

            “I think it’s fucking hilarious and so Payne like.”

            Liam laughs with him because it is kind of funny that this woman who hasn’t ever stepped foot into an upscale gallery has such an obsession with modern art. He knows for sure that she’s the only one in her book club who knows who the hell Banksy is.

            They meet Harry outside of his apartment and he runs at Niall like two little kids being reunited after one moves away. Liam stands awkwardly to the side as the men embrace.

            “Leeyum,” Harry drawls and pulls him into a side hug too. He’s always slightly confused by their physical affection. They touch so much and it still makes Liam sort of uncomfortable because he’s worried they figure him out, which is ridiculous because he’s not even remotely attracted to either one of them.

            “To the Affordable Art Fair,” Harry says.

            “Huzzah,” Niall cheers.

            “Dear lord,” Liam mumbles.

            They arrive and Liam is instantly overwhelmed. Everyone is so artsy and New York-y and he feels like a fish out of water. He wants to find Zayn Malik and get the hell out of this place that makes him feel like some uneducated hick. Harry is looking at everything, exclaiming that a photograph of bananas would look great over his bed and Niall comments that it’s just going to confuse any girl or guy Harry brings home. Harry argues back that he’s a chef so having pictures of food isn’t all that confusing. Niall laughs and says that he doesn’t want to be outdone by a piece of fruit in the size department and Harry just giggles and says that won’t be problem, which makes Naill gape and Liam chuckle.

            Liam scans the area looking for the dark-haired man whose picture he has only seen in magazines. He spots him and literally stares for a second. He’s the most beautiful person Liam has seen in his entire life and Liam has spent a lot of time in a lot of different places. He taps Harry on the shoulder who gets Niall’s attention and they trudge through the crowd and slide into the booth. It takes him a minute to get up the nerve to approach the artist, even though Harry is already in a full-fledged conversation with who he assumes is Zayn’s friend.

            Liam is surprised by how nice Zayn is, by how genuine he seems, but especially by how generous he is. He knows he’s getting the painting for a steal; he can see the sharp glare the gallery owner sends to Zayn as he packs up the painting for Liam. He wonders just how much of a discount Zayn gave him.

            When he asks Niall to take a picture of them, he puts his hand on Zayn’s back just to see if that niggling feeling in his gut is really the arousal he thinks it might be. Of course, it is because Liam is constantly and consistently falling for people at the most inopportune times. Like his sister’s boyfriend at Thanksgiving, the co-captain of the rugby team, and his bunkmate at West Point. He needs to have a long serious talk with his libido because it seems out to get him. He wants to see the tattoos that are peaking out of Zayn’s shirt and maybe trace them with his tongue. Jesus, he is so fucked it’s not funny. He knows he can’t do anything about it, though, not with “Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell”. He’s pretty sure he can trust Niall, but he’s so terrified that he will lose all that he’s worked for that he doesn’t want to risk it. Not on this attraction to an artist who will only paint disasters for him.  

            Zayn’s pixie-like friend skips past him and away from Harry who has a shit-eating grin on his face.  Niall is nudging his shoulder and has a pseudo-scowl on his face.

            “Harry wants to get some instead of hanging out with us.”

            “What else is new?” Liam jokes.

            “Oi, insulting,” Harry complains.

            “Typical Styles, getting insulted about the truth,” Liam laughs.

            “I already told Niall you guys could come. Louis’s bringing his friend along.”

            Liam’s heart rate picks up because he already knows they’re going. He knew it the second Niall opened his mouth and now he knows Zayn is going too. He’s going to have to ignore his dick and think with his head, which is always difficult when he drinks. And he knows if he cops out of drinking, Niall will get heinously concerned and not stop questioning him until he starts.  He wonders if there’s a way to duck out now.

            “But tonight was supposed to be about me,” Niall whines, “I was going to hang out with my two best friends and they were going to fawn all over me.”

            “Niall Horan, diva extraordinaire.”

            “Fuck off, Styles.”

            “I’m going to fuck that,” he says, gesturing to Zayn’s friend, “Under my banana picture.”

            Liam can’t help the cackle that escapes his lips, but he feels a nervous ball of energy in his gut with the knowledge that he’s going to be spending time avoiding his primal urge to lay kisses up and down Zayn Malik’s gorgeous body.          


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After Louis’s show, Louis and Zayn meet up with Harry, Liam, and Niall at a club.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for the wonderful response!

            “What the fuck is this shit?” Zayn asks as he takes a beer out of Louis’s fridge. He needs some alcohol to calm his shaking nerves. His fingers quiver a little as he tries to find a bottle opener in Louis’s miniscule kitchen.

            “It’s craft beer,” Louis says, rolling his eyes, “Not all of us can stomach that PBR piss.”

            “This is basically juice,” Zayn whines as he pops the cap off the Pomegranate Wheat Ale.             

            “Shut up,” Louis says, throwing a pillow at Zayn.

            “I’ve got to leave soon to get ready for the show tonight. I got you a pretty nice seat in the balcony.”

            “Not the floor, not front row, not a box, I’m fucking disappointed Tomlinson.”

            “You become such an asshat when you’re nervous.”

            “I’m not nervous,” Zayn grits out and he almost curses himself for how defensive his tone is.

            “O my god, you’ve got it really bad for Chevrons!”

            Zayn rolls his eye and doesn’t dignify the exclamation with a response because he’ll only seem more defensive. The beer isn’t half bad; even if it does taste distinctly like the expensive juice his mom sometimes buys Taj.

            “How do you fuck anyone up there?” Zayn asks, falling back on Louis’s couch and looking up at the sleeping loft.

            “Stop trying to change the subject.”

            “That was a serious question.”

            “The serious answer is that I don’t that’s why I spent the extra money on a comfortable pullout couch.”

            “Do they usually pull out?”

            “I’m not going to get pregnant, you prick.”

            Zayn snorts and adds, “I’m slightly offended; I thought that couch was for me.”

            “That’s why you normally end up in the loft with me.”

            Zayn also doesn’t respond to that because it’s true. He likes sleeping with Louis. Not in any kind of sexual way, in a purely platonic way. He likes the way Louis wraps around him in his sleep.  Louis attaches to him like a baby koala and it makes him feel needed but that is definitely not something he’s going to share with Louis, especially right now. Zayn starts to curl into a ball on the couch because it is rather comfy.

            “You better not fall asleep.”

            “Just a little nap,” Zayn yawns as he pulls his knees up closer to his chest.

            “Malik,” Louis whines.

            “’M tired.”

            “You’re narcoleptic,” Louis complains.

            “That’s a serious medical condition,” Zayn yawns and gives Louis a stern look.

            “And I’m worried you have it.”

            “I don’t, just like sleep.”

            “Fine, I’m setting the alarm on your phone for five. You better wake up when it goes off and you better be at my show on time, or so help you God, I will kill you.”

            Zayn makes a committal noise and quickly falls into a light sleep.  He hears Louis leave shortly after. He knows he should get up and maybe do something productive, but there’s not really anything he can do productive at Louis’s. At five, the alarm goes off with an obnoxious noise that Louis must have selected special because Zayn has never heard it before and he rolls off the couch. Zayn puts on his white button down and throws his leather jacket over it. Before he leaves, he calls his sister to check on Taj.

            “Hello,” Doniya answers.

            “Hey, how’s it going?”

            “’S fine.”

            “He’s being alright, isn’t he?”

            “Zayn, he’s always a darling.”

            “That’s good. Can I talk to him?”

            “Of course,” she responds and he can hear her call Taj even though it’s muffled because her hand must be over the mouthpiece.

            “Daddy?” Taj asks into the phone.

            “Hey, kid, how’s it going?”

            “’S good, Auntie Doni and I made cookies. They’re really yummy.”

            “Did she let you eat them for dinner?”

            “Uh,” his son thinks about his answer, “Well, she let me have one before dinner, but she made me eat all my veggies before I could have another.”

            Zayn laughs, “I’m glad you’re having fun.”

            “Are you going to come get me tomorrow?”

            “Yeah, Uncle Lou says hi and that he wants to get you from school on Monday. Would that be okay?”

            “I wouldn’t have to go to Mrs. Hardy’s?”

            “No, I would call Mrs. Hardy tomorrow to let her know that Lou was going to pick you up.”

            Zayn cringes as Taj lets out a whooping cry of excitement, “I guess that’s a yes.”

            “Uh-huh,” Taj agrees.

            “Okay, kid, I’ve got to go to Uncle Lou’s show now, but I love you and I’ll see you tomorrow afternoon. Okay?”

            “Okay, daddy, I love you, too.”

            “Night, Taj.”

            “Good night, daddy!”

            Zayn smiles as the line disconnects. He dropped Taj off yesterday at Doniya’s and he knows Taj is fine, but he still worries. He worries about everything with Taj. He’s responsible for Taj and he’s just so worried he’s going to fuck him up, and now he doesn’t have Perrie there assuring him he won’t, making sure he won’t. He misses Perrie, even though, he knows the only reason they were going to get married, or even stayed together that long, was because of Taj. He misses her vibrant laugh, comforting smile, and conspiratorial winks. He misses fighting with her, picking up after her, and watching her cuddle Taj. Zayn shakes thoughts of Taj and Perrie off and heads out of Louis’s studio, locking the door behind him.

            Zayn is always in awe of Louis’s acting ability, has been ever since he saw him in some small improv show their first year at NYU. The magnetic way he does everything on stage draws people’s attention in a way that Zayn can’t put into words but has put into art before, a vibrant painting that sold for way more than even Paul was expecting.

            When the curtain goes down for the last time, the couple next to him attempts to sprint out of the building as quickly as possible. He’s nearly a prick about it, just because he can be, but he lets them hurry past him. He has to wait for Louis, so he moseys down to the gallery and leans against a pillar.

            Soon Louis texts him and he’s running out to get Zayn to pull him backstage. He gets introduced to the rest of the cast in rapid-fire succession. Louis wipes off the make-up, pulls on his own clothes, which aren’t much different than his costume, sprays on some cologne and deodorant, and pulls a comb through his hair a few times. Zayn thinks he looks good and assures him of this, but Louis’s still pulling on his bangs as they head outside. They catch a cab to go to the club to meet Harry, Liam, and the blond. He’s not sure if this is such a good idea, but when he tries to tell Louis this, Louis cuffs him and leaves no room for any more arguments.

            They get past security and slide into the club. The bass is physically shaking the floor and Zayn feels nauseated by the pulse. They find the threesome near the bar. Harry is wearing virtually the same outfit he was wearing earlier, but Louis doesn’t seem to mind as he takes a sip of the drink in the curly-headed guy’s hand. The blond has a girl clinging to his side, whispering in his ear; he’s pink-cheeked and nodding. Liam’s removed his plaid shirt and now has it tied around his waist; he’s drinking a beer lazily. Zayn stands awkwardly near the group. He’s not sure exactly what to do; going out really isn’t his thing. It’s always too loud and too crowded; he’d rather be at Louis’s place having a movie marathon.

            Within minutes, a girl has her hand gripped on his bicep and is slurring into his ear. He nods in what he hopes is the most noncommittal way possible and tries to pull away from her, but he can’t seem to find a place to move where she doesn’t go with him. She’s a persistent little thing, which he begrudgingly gives her credit for. He’s getting desperate, when a hand slides onto his lower back and Liam presses into his space.

            “Babe, I got you that beer you wanted,” Liam yells into his ear and throws glare-daggers at the girl gyrating on Zayn’s hip as he presses a glass into Zayn’s hand. The girl looks shamefaced and sends a pleading look at Zayn who shrugs and lets the side she’s against sag a little. She gets the hint and slinks off to join her friends. Liam’s hand immediately drops and Zayn wishes it hadn’t. Liam turns and grabs another beer off the counter and offers the glass for cheers. Zayn taps his glass against Liam’s and takes a long draw from it.

            “Thanks,” Zayn shouts.

            Liam presses into his personal space again, so that his mouth is inches from Zayn’s ear and whisper-shouts, “You looked about as uninterested as I would imagine I would look.”

            Zayn has no idea what that means. He thinks, or rather hopes, it means Liam is interested in men. Yet, Zayn normally doesn’t get that lucky. He smiles in response and Liam grins back. They have a slightly yelled conversation, but it’s really hard to carry on anything substantial with how loud it is. Zayn goes to say something to Louis, but he’s not there and he can see him dancing to the music with the lanky one. They’re all flailing limbs and circling hips trying to get closer to each other. The blond one, whose name he learns is Niall, leaves with his arm around a petite, giggling brunette. “Love in this Club” starts playing and despite himself, Zayn can feel his hips swaying.

            “Let’s dance,” Liam shouts.

            “I don’t really dance,” Zayn protests as Liam grabs his arm and drags him out onto the dance floor. “Especially not this sober,” he mumbles but knows it would be wrong to move away now. And he really doesn’t want to anyways.

            “That’s okay, just follow my lead,” Liam whispers into Zayn’s ear. Liam grips Zayn’s hip; it’s purposeful but not controlling. Liam sways to the beat and keeps Zayn against him. He closes his eyes and leans his head back against Liam’s broad shoulder. He doesn’t notice that Louis and Harry have gotten closer. Somebody’s pushing into his pocket and his eyes fly open. It’s Louis with a blissed out grin on his face. He grabs onto Zayn’s neck and drags him close.

            “Take the soldier back to my place,” Louis slurs into his ear. Zayn’s mouth goes dry and his arousal spikes with the thought of getting laid. He waves as Louis pulls away and winks as he maneuvers out of the crowd gripping Harry’s hand tightly. Zayn turns in Liam’s arm and runs his hands up Liam’s chest. Liam leans down and their lips mesh together.

            “Come on,” Zayn yells, tugging on Liam’s hand.

            They stumble out of the club and into a taxi. Liam runs a hand up and down Zayn’s thigh during the ride and Zayn sifts to hide his stiffening dick. They arrive at Louis’s apartment and Zayn moves to get his wallet out of his pants and Liam puts a hand on his arm.

            “I’ve got it,” Liam says.

            “You already bought me a beer.”

            “And you gave me a huge discount on a painting that my mom is going to love,” Liam grins and Zayn is terrified that he feels the same dopey grin pull at his lips.

            Zayn leads Liam upstairs their fingers lightly intertwined. Zayn opens the door and pushes inside. When he closes the door, Liam looks at him questioningly and Zayn pushes Liam against the door. He presses his lips to the broader man’s. Even though he’s not that small, relatively, he feels small against Liam. He feels that he has the control, even though Liam could take it if he wanted it. Liam grips his hips but it’s pleading this time not leading. Zayn smiles into the kiss and runs his fingers along the hem of Liam’s shirt. Liam groans into Zayn’s mouth and this time Zayn can’t help the huge smirk that spreads across his lips. He drops his mouth to the hollow of Liam’s throat. He wants to leave marks, but Liam pushes him away.

            “I won’t be able to explain them,” Liam whispers almost sadly, “I’m not a very good liar.”

            Zayn doesn’t respond; he just reaches down and pulls the hem upwards. His fingers then dance over the top of his jeans. He unbuttons them, wrenches the zipper down, and pushes them down Liam’s muscled legs. He moans appreciatively as he kisses Liam’s chest.

            “’S not fair,” Liam moans, “You’re still dressed.”

            Zayn chuckles, pulls his shirt over his head, and shucks his pants.

            “Fuck, do we have to go up there?” Liam questions, gesturing to Louis’s sleeping loft.

            “Fuck,” Zayn grumbles and goes to the couch. He removes the cushions as fast as possible and pulls the mattress free.

            Liam chuckles and pushes him onto it. Zayn can feel the bar pressing into his back and wonders how Louis spends most of his nights like this. Liam crawls on top of him and kisses down his chest.

            “You’re gorgeous,” Liam says in-between kisses. Zayn doesn’t dignify that with a verbal response, but he does leer down his body at Liam.

            “Can I tell you something?” Liam asks softly against Zayn’s hip as he sucks a bruise into it.

            “Yeah.”

            “I’ve never done this with a guy.”

            “Shit,” Zayn hisses and sits up, causing Liam to roll over next to him. Zayn moves to sit with his back against the couch, “Fuck.”

            “I’ve wanted to, but like, I’ve never really felt like risking it.”

            “Why me?”

            “I don’t know; I felt like I could trust you.”

            “You don’t even know me,” Zayn says exasperatedly, “Fuck, shit, damn.”

            “I should go,” Liam says, and backs up off the thin mattress.

            “It’s late, don’t go,” Zayn say, “Shit, it’s just, that’s a lot of fucking pressure man.”

            “’S not really. I’ve just been terrified to get caught. Not really about expectation or holding out.”

            “Closest, huh?”

            “Military.”

            Zayn harrumphs and looks at him, “I’m still really hard.”

            “Can we just continue what we were doing before? Forget, I said anything.”

            “Absolutely not,” Zayn laughs but then Liam is nipping at Zayn’s hipbone, “But maybe?”

            Zayn pushes at Liam’s shoulder and he rolls over. Zayn straddles Liam’s hips and looms over him. Zayn brackets Liam’s face with his arms and presses their lips together. He shucks his boxers and pushes Liam down too.

            “’M not going to take your virginity, at least not like this, but I need to take the edge off to sleep.”

            “I’m not a virgin; I’ve had sex with girls before.”

            “’S not the same.”

            Zayn fumbles with the drawer on the side table and grabs the lube out of it. He knows it’s there because Taj had found it one time when he was looking for the remote control. He wraps his well-lubed hand around Liam and then himself. Once he feels they’re sufficiently lubricated he lines them up and tries to wrap his hand around both. He’s kissing Liam softly now. Liam's hips stutter against Zayn and Zayn grinds down on him. The inhuman growl that escapes Liam's lips makes Zayn spurt and almost come too soon. They’re bucking against each other and then they’re both coming over his hand within minutes of the start, Liam first and then Zayn a minute later. He kisses Liam again slow, not wanting it to end.

            He gets a washcloth to clean them both off and then crawls next to Liam. His lids are already drooping heavily and he pushes his face against Liam’s back. His hand slides over the other man’s body to the center of his chest. He doesn't want to think about how sated he feels or how his fingers seem to fit in-between Liam's ribs so well. 

            “Night,” Liam mumbles.

            “Good night.”

* * *

            Liam wakes up to his alarm screaming obnoxiously from somewhere on the floor. He scrambles off the bed and tries to find his phone as quickly as possible, but he can already hear Zayn stirring awake.

            “Turn it off,” Zayn mumbles as he puts a pillow over his head.

            Liam flicks it off, but he really does need to leave. He has exercises in the afternoon and will have his ass on a platter if he’s even five minutes late.

            As he’s pulling his pants on, his phone trills again and he almost falls on his face trying to pick it up to silence it. It’s a text from Niall telling him not to miss exercises. He sends a reply message, turns his phone to vibrate, and slides it into his back pocket. He looks at Zayn and considers waking him up. He looks so peaceful, well that’s the excuse Liam is always going to use, so he writes a quick note with his number and three x’s.

            The ride back to base is long and Liam just revels in the previous night. He’s half hard when he walks into the apartment complex on base. Niall is also walking back to his place. Niall just looks him over and starts clapping.

            “Congratulations on getting laid. She must have been a looker to get your attention.”

            Liam snorts, “See you at exercises.”

            “Payno,” Niall jeers.

            “Bye, Niall.”

            He immediately goes to the shower and he’ll never admit to anyone that he replays the night with the gorgeous man that he hopes isn’t offended by his note and calls him sooner, rather than later. 


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Liam and Zayn’s first date with a little bit of "in love" Louis.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't own.  
> I hope you like it!  
> Thanks to everyone who has been commenting and kudos-ing, you rock!

            Zayn hates commuting more than anything else he does all day, more than paperwork, more than waking up early. It incites a part of himself that he really doesn’t like, the raging part of him. After all, he has a lot to rage about. His mom suggested books on CD to keep his mind off the idiots on the road and now Zayn goes to the local library every other week to pick up a new selection.  He’s parked the car in his assigned spot behind his building but is waiting for a chapter of _Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close_ to finish.

            The lights are on in his place and he knows Louis and Taj are upstairs probably causing complete chaos in the tiny two-bedroom apartment. He thinks Louis’s probably already ordered dinner from the Thai place around the corner that he loves. He hopes that if Taj has homework that Louis’s made sure he’s finished it like Mrs. Hardy always does. He is slightly appalled that he has to worry about his kindergartner finishing his homework, but he guesses it will strengthen his work ethic. Or some shit.

            He trudges up the three flights of stairs and unlocks the two locks on the door. He swings the door open and is immediately attacked by a whirling ball of energy. He groans and tells Taj that he’s getting too old for that, but Taj ignores his grievance and starts chattering about his day. Taj is talking so fast that Zayn can only understand a few intermittent words but he gets concerned when he catches ‘cunt’. He glances at Louis who has busied himself with cleaning up the puppets on the living room floor, which might as well be him screaming, “I’m guilty.”

            “Daddy,” Taj articulates, “What’s a cunt?”

            “It’s not a very nice word,” Zayn says and throws his keys at Louis from behind Taj’s back.  Louis looks up to make sure Taj isn’t looking and then flips him off, “Uncle Lou shouldn’t be saying it.”

            “But a lady was mean to him,” Taj explains, his eyebrows knitting together.

            “Yeah, but remember we talked about how when people are mean to you, you can’t be mean back because then it makes you seem mean too and makes them feel like they can be mean to you.”

            “Uncle Louis isn’t mean, he was just mad, and she called him a bad word first.”

            “I know, Taj, but we don’t use words like that just because we’re mad at someone.”

            “Don’t be mad at Uncle Lou.”

            “I’m not mad, just disappointed,” Zayn says, kissing Taj’s forehead. Louis rolls his eyes and mimics vomiting.

            “I won’t say it,” Taj promises.

            “Good, now go play with your toys while I get ready for dinner.”

            He puts Taj down and Taj takes off to the bins in the living room where Zayn tries to get him to keep all of his toys. Taj is happy to play by himself. Zayn knows Taj will let them know if he wants him or Louis to play with him, but he probably needs a break from Louis’s overwhelming presence. Zayn understands Taj more than he’s ever understood anyone because Taj is basically a mini-him. Perrie had always grumbled how she was kind of sad that it seemed most of her DNA was overshadowed by Zayn’s.

            “Did you order food?” Zayn asks Louis.

            “Of course, it should be here soon.”

            “Could you maybe refrain from swearing in front of my son?”

            “In my defense, your offspring has supersonic hearing and that hag called me a flaming fag.”

            “Lou,” Zayn sighs.

            “I am sorry though, I guess. Only because nobody should hear their five year old say cunt,” Louis semi-apologizes, and Zayn can’t help the chuckle that escapes his lips because that’s the best he’s going to get.

            “So, how was curly?”

            Louis actually gets a dreamy look on his face and Zayn wants to burst out laughing. Louis’s lips mimic words, but he’s not speaking. Zayn raises an eyebrow and Louis flips him off once more.  

            “Best sex I’ve ever had,” Louis pronounces.

            “Wow, that’s quite a proclamation coming from you,” Zayn laughs.

            “Fuck you,” Louis says with a pinched expression, nudging Zayn’s shoulder.

            “Are you going to see him again?”

            “Yeah, we’re eating at one of his friend’s restaurants in the East Village on Wednesday.”

            “Louis’s got a boyfriend,” Zayn singsongs.

            “Malik,” Louis whines and it makes Zayn laugh more, “What about you and ‘chevrons’?”

            “Umm,” Zayn stutters, “Not sure.”

            “How was Saturday night?”

            “It was good.”

            “Yeah, so what’s with the not sure?”

            “He’s military.”

            “And what does that have to do anything?”

            “Don’t ask, don’t tell.”

            “Isn’t that his business, not yours?”

            “Louis, I don’t think I could be that secretive.”

            “Wouldn’t you be that secretive for Taj anyways?”

            “Stop being logical.” Louis actually cackles and wraps his arms around him and presses his face into the tattoo on Zayn’s neck.

            “Come on, Zaynie, you need to get out there.”

            “I don’t.”

            “Call him.”

            “Lou, it was a nice night, but I don’t think it’s such a good idea.”

            “Yesterday, before you left, I didn’t say anything because I knew you would get all miffed, but that was the happiest I’ve seen you since Taj was born,” Louis says into Zayn’s skin.

            “Louis,” Zayn reprimands quietly.

            “You should try, for yourself.”

            After a long moment, Zayn concedes, “I’ll call him tonight.”

            “I always win.”

            “Only because you wear everyone down, Tommo. I wish that curly-haired fuck a lot of luck with you.”

            “Cunt,” Louis hisses.

            After dinner, Louis leaves and Zayn starts Taj with his bedtime routine.  Taj whines a little bit and Zayn wonders out of all things why Taj didn’t get his love for sleeping. Taj would stay up all night if Zayn would let him. Zayn starts a bath and Taj collects so many toys to bring in with him that he can barely move in the tub and Zayn is going to have to add more water just to make sure that Taj gets clean. Zayn sits on the toilet seat and sketches Liam from memory. If Louis knew he was doing this, he’d never live it down. He completely considers not calling him, but he knows Louis will find out and will make a diabolical plot to get them together again. Zayn has learned to avoid Louis’s scheming at all costs, which means just doing what Louis wants him to do or doing enough to appease him into not creating something sinister.

            Zayn limits Taj to two books for his bedtime stories and he reads Taj _Don’t Let the Pigeon Drive the Bus_ and _Where the Wild Things Are_. Zayn ignores the fact that Taj has brought three more books into bed with him and will probably be reading them until he falls asleep.

            “Alright, kid, it’s time to go to sleep,” Zayn says sternly.

            “Okay.”

            “I love you,” Zayn kisses Taj on the forehead.

            “Love you too, Daddy,” Taj says.

            “I’m going to come check on you again when the clock says 8:15 after I do the dishes,” Zayn warns.

            “Mmmkay.”

            “You need to go to bed, Taj.”

            “I am in bed, Dad,” Taj responds, and Zayn is always slightly impressed when Taj has such clever retorts.

            “You spend too much time with Uncle Lou,” Zayn sighs and Taj giggles.

            “Night, Dad.”

            “Night, kid.”

            There are not a lot of dishes, but Zayn uses the time to make Taj and himself lunches for the next day. He picks up a few loose toys and goes to check on Taj again. Taj has a book laid out on his lap, but Zayn’s pretty sure he’s fallen asleep and it’s no wonder with everything he probably did with Louis. He kisses Taj on the forehead and there’s no response. He puts the books on the little bookshelf next to Taj’s bed and tip-toes out of the bedroom.

                When he goes back into the living room, he decides he might as well get it over with and he dials the number from the receipt that was left next to his head Sunday morning. It rings and Zayn kind of hopes for the voicemail or more that the voicemail is not hooked up.

            “Hello?”

            “Hi, Liam. It’s Zayn from Saturday…err, Sunday.”

            “I know who Zayn is,” Liam responds with a gentle laugh.

            “So I’m going to skip the chitchat and ask do you want to go out some time?”

            “Yeah, I’d like that.”

            “Good, me too, do you know the Yemen Café?”

            “Yeah, Niall loves it.”

            “I was thinking something this weekend would be great.”

            “Yeah, Sunday’s probably the best.”

            “Awesome.”

            “See you there.”

            “Yeah, bye.”

            Zayn wonders if that awkward phone conversation is going to bleed into their date; he sure as hell hopes not. Zayn calls Waliyha and bribes her with dinner, breakfast, and fifty bucks to come over on Sunday night to watch Taj. She probably would’ve done it for free, but he feels guilty using his sisters’ generosity against them. Especially when he could pay a babysitter, but he just doesn’t want to leave his son alone with someone who isn’t close to them more than he has to.   

            For the rest of the week, Zayn’s nerves are shot anytime he thinks about Liam and their date. He’s so behind on paperwork it’s a joke. He’s lackadaisical and the juveniles he works with are starting to question how he’s feeling, which is totally in his job description, not theirs. He tries to take his mind off this unknown feeling, but he can’t really manage it on his own.

            Louis helps him, though, with his constant chatter about Harry Styles. Harry Styles is a sous-chef at one of the best restaurants in Chelsea…Harry Styles defies typical gender roles…Harry Styles likes to watch soccer… Harry Styles has a banana picture above his bed that doesn’t outdo him. Zayn can’t remember the last time Louis has been this obsessed with someone. The last long relationship Louis had ended right after Taj was born and Louis’s boyfriend said he wanted nothing to do with kids. As young as Louis was he knew he wanted kids and especially wanted to be in his best friend’s kid’s life. Zayn wonders if the hipster-head can be who Louis needs him to be.

            “You need to stop stressing,” Louis demands over the phone.

            “’M not stressing,” Zayn mumbles as he cuts up vegetables for dinner.

            “You totally are.”

            “Shuddup.”

            “It’s cute.”

            “Louis, I have to feed my son and be a responsible adult now.”

            “Bye, Zaynie Boo.”

            “You’re insufferable.”

            “You love it.”

            “Bye, Lou.”

            On Sunday, his sister shows up in yoga pants and a hand-me-down NYU sweatshirt with her hair in a bun and a North Face bag slung over her shoulder. She has coloring books, a pack of crayons, and a grow-your-own-dinosaur pack in her hand. She smiles winningly at him and he scowls jokingly at her.

            “Do you buy him that stuff just to piss me off?” Zayn asks.

            “Zaynie Boo, he needs to experience art like every other child his age,” Walihya informs, pressing her bag into his chest.

            “Waliyha,” Zayn sighs.

            “Brother dearest, this is how life works when you ask me to traipse over to Queens from Columbia. It took me over an hour.”

            “’M sorry.”

            “Psh, all in a day’s work to see my favorite brother.”

            “Taj, come say hi to your aunt,” Zayn calls.

            “Auntie Wali,” Taj screams as he careens into the foyer. He plows into her, wrapping his arms around her waist, and she squeaks but cuddles him back.

            “Tajaroni, are we going to have macaroni for dinner?”

            “You’re silly.”

            “I know, it’s part of my charm.”

            “Are you going to be okay with Aunt Waliyha?” Zayn asks Taj as he ruffles his hair and Waliyha rolls her eyes.

            “Yeah, Dad,” Taj enthuses as he shakes out some kind of dance.

            “Thanks, again Waliyha.”

            “Get it in, brotha.”

            “You’re embarrassing.”

            “Also, part of my charm,” Waliyha calls as Taj drags her to the kitchen.

            The drive isn’t that long, so Zayn doesn’t play the book tapes. Instead he listens to the rhythmic crooning of Usher. He’s been listening to Usher since he was eleven and he gets this serene feeling whenever the music plays.

            He arrives a few minutes late and figures that if this is going to last between him and Liam that Liam might as well figure out now rather than later that late is Zayn’s default setting.  Of course, Liam isn’t late. He was probably there fifteen minutes early, which is just Zayn’s luck. He walks swiftly to the table where Liam is sitting wearing another plaid shirt and jeans.

            “Sorry, I’m late,” Zayn says as he slides off his jacket.

            “No worries,” Liam responds, looking up and grinning brightly at him, while Zayn fiddles with the sleeves of his sweater. Zayn finds his good-naturedness to be both endearing and overwhelming. Zayn knows he’ll never be as nice and sweet as this guy in front of him. It’s something that he’s always known, he’s not nearly as nice of a person as he could be or should be.

            Zayn sits down and picks up the menu just to have something to do, even though he knows he’s going to order Saltah and a special Yemen tea. He reads the descriptions as he would at a restaurant he’s never been to before, but this is another one of Louis’s favorite restaurants and he could probably describe every item on the menu.

            “I was thinking about getting the Chicken Supreme,” Liam says, “I’m not a very adventurist food eater.”

            “That’s what Taj usually gets,” Zayn says off-handedly and then literally wants to beat himself over the head with the menu and then maybe the plate and then maybe the chair he’s sitting on. It feels sturdy enough to knock him out. He likes Liam and now he’s going to scare him away because Liam looks perturbed like he’s brought up a boyfriend or an ex. The problem is that it’s worse than that. He’s brought up a son. Liam doesn’t ask verbally though, but his eyes say it all. So Zayn just leaps, “Taj is my son.”

            What Zayn is expecting is the awkward and terrified look most people get in their eyes when they hear he has a son, but no clearly Liam is perfect. Liam just grins at him.

            “How old is he?”

            “Five.”

            “So I have similar food tastes to a five year old. I would say I’m embarrassed but I’m really not.”

            Zayn laughs and the tightness in his chest from not telling Liam about Taj is gone and there is absolutely no worry in his mind that Taj and Liam will get along. That’s what terrifies him a little, that he’s actually thinking about introducing this man to his son. This man could totally ruin him and he probably will. Zayn thinks he’s fucked, but he won’t, he swear he won’t, let this fuck Taj.  

* * *

            “Do you want to come back to my place,” Zayn asks Liam softly as Liam pulls on his jacket. The words are so gentle that Liam could’ve missed them on the music that adds ambiance to the restaurant. Liam turns to him and raises an eyebrow.

            “If you want,” Zayn amends, which is funny because he had said want before too, “I could drive you back to base in the morning. It would have to be before my son wakes up but I wouldn’t mind.”

            “Okay,” Liam responds, he’s more eager than he lets on and he tries not to skip as he follows Zayn to his car.

            “I love Usher,” Liam admits when Zayn turns the ignition and Usher immediately starts playing.

            “Me too,” Zayn replies and he watches as Zayn’s face breaks with a grin without looking at him.

            They chat mindlessly about their jobs and what television shows they watch regularly, Liam expounds on how much he loves _Breaking Bad_ , and Liam just wants to put his hand on the back of Zayn’s neck and kiss him when he nods and understands his little obsession. He resists the urge because he doesn’t need an accident to put a hitch in their night. They pull into a spot behind a cute little apartment building and Liam is starting to get too attached to this idea of a relationship with Zayn. When they get inside the first door, Zayn kisses him gently and twines their fingers together. Liam grins shamelessly at him and follows him up the flights of stairs to his apartment door.

            “We’re going to have to be quiet, my sister’s inside. She might have already cashed out on the couch, but she might be awake still.”

            Zayn looks worried, so Liam drops a quick kiss on his lips. It’s dry and over too fast, but Liam knows they’ll have plenty of time to make up for it when they get inside. The corner of Zayn’s eyes crinkle and he squeezes Liam’s hand before he unlocks the door. Zayn pushes Liam into the kitchen when a voice calls out from the living room. There’s a muffled conversation and then Zayn’s back in the kitchen, grabbing Liam’s hand, and dragging him down the hallway.

            Zayn pulls him into what must be the master bedroom and it’s tiny but there’s a queen-sized bed with a dark bedspread on it, a dresser, and two nightstands. Zayn locks the door and immediately latches onto Liam’s shirt, pulling him in and kissing him more roughly than Liam’s ready for.

            “I want you to fuck me,” Zayn whispers, when he pulls off Liam’s lips and latches them to the spot below his ear. Liam shivers and immediately gets hard. Zayn has turned nearly frantic, pushing Liam’s shirt off his shoulder, and ripping off his own sweater. Liam pulls his undershirt over his head and looks at Zayn. He sees the tattoos on Zayn’s skin and he hopes he has a chance to trace them this time.

            Zayn’s moving down to his jeans and Liam lets out a whimper. Zayn’s fingers assuredly unbutton and unzip his pants and he’s laying open-mouthed kisses along Liam’s hip. He tugs down the jeans and with them Liam’s boxer-briefs. He looks up at Liam when he wants him to step out of them. When he leans down to engulf Liam’s dick with his mouth, Liam pushes him away.

            “If you want me to fuck you, you shouldn’t. I’ll come too quickly,” Liam warns and Zayn’s grin is almost malevolent.

            Zayn removes his own pants quickly and pushes Liam onto the bed. Zayn’s on top of him, and Liam finds himself grappling to get his bearings and respond with as much finesse as Zayn is producing. Zayn reaches into one of the bedside tables and pulls out a bottle of lube. He’s covering his fingers and reaching behind to press into his puckered hole. Liam squeezes his eyes shut because he can feel his body ramping up watching Zayn finger himself. He opens his eyes to find Zayn straddling him with his head thrown back and moaning.

            “I want to,” Liam says and his voice cracks and sounds completely wrecked. Zayn leers down at him and offers the lube to him.

            He covers his fingers and presses two into Zayn who grinds down on them, making obscene sounds.  Liam reaches down with his other hand and wraps it around the base of his own penis to keep from coming from only noises. Once he’s not in trouble of coming he moves his hand to Zayn and pumps his dick.

            “I need you now before I come all over your chest.”

            “Are you sure you’re ready?”

            “Shut up,” Zayn moans as he rolls a condom down Liam’s cock and guides it into him.

             Zayn feels so tight around him and Liam can’t believe he hasn’t done this before. Liam holds Zayn’s hips down because he can tell Zayn is itching to start moving, but he doesn’t know if there will be much more moving if Zayn starts now. He smacks Zayn’s hip gently when he’s ready and he almost thinks he’s done the wrong thing when Zayn stutters but he looks up at blown eyes and his dick twitches inside the tightness. Zayn quickly takes control, moving in a rhythm that has Liam’s eyes rolling back in his head.

            When he feels the coil of his orgasm start, he reaches down to Zayn’s leaking cock and wraps his hand around it with the same pressure he usually puts on his own. He figures if he likes it Zayn will too and soon Zayn is spurting onto Liam’s stomach. He can’t hold out any longer and comes with a cry that is released into Zayn’s mouth.  Zayn moves off him, ties off the condom, and throws it into the trash. He returns to lap the come off Liam’s navel and then lick into Liam’s mouth. The thought of tasting come in a kiss has always perturbed him flashes across his brain and then disappears when Zayn pulls at his neck.

            “Fuck,” Liam says when Zayn pulls away to fall next to him.

            “Yeah,” Zayn responds into his neck.

            Liam doesn’t remember falling asleep, but he wakes up with one of Zayn’s legs draped over his hips and Zayn’s head on his shoulder. His arm is asleep and he doesn’t even care. He kisses Zayn’s forehead whose eyes blink open slowly and a small smile tugs at his lips. Zayn kisses Liam’s chest, runs a hand from his navel to his chest, and throws himself up to straddle Liam. He lets Zayn control this morning’s make-out session and just enjoys the way it feels. Zayn pulls away from Liam’s mouth and moves down his body. Liam glances at the clock and throws his head back.

            “Fuck, we should stop,” Liam whines.

            “Why?”

            “We need to leave so you can get back here in time to get Taj to school and yourself to work.”

            “You remembered his name.”

            “Of course, I did.”

            Liam doesn’t understand the look on Zayn’s face, but it can’t be that bad because the way Zayn kisses him tells him there’s going to be more of that and that’s exactly what Liam wants.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zayn and Liam are both unprepared for what life throws at them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to all who have been reading!!  
> I don't own the people who you recognize.

            In the last five weeks, Zayn has discovered that he really likes wrapping his body around Liam after sex. He likes placing his face against the rigid pectoral muscle, sliding his fingers into the rib slots, and hooking his ankle around a calf. Liam’s breathing is rhythmic and soothing against his cheek and it’s starting to become a real addiction.

            “How was your trip home?” Zayn asks Liam who is drawing lazy patterns on Zayn’s back as Zayn runs his fingers over Liam’s ribcage.

            Liam blinks slowly and his voice is rough with the first inklings of sleep when he responds, “It was good; my mom really liked Taj. She actually cried. My sisters were so mad that my present was nine hundred times better than theirs. Not that my mom likes to play favorites but I am definitely the favorite now.”

            Zayn chuckles lightly and smiles up at Liam who is looking at him with sparkling but droopy eyes. He kisses Liam’s chest before saying, “I’m glad she liked it.”

            It makes Zayn feel extraordinarily weak when he adds, “Did you tell them about us?” Especially when he knows the answers, when he knows that Liam’s career is so important to him. That a five-week relationship, that they haven’t even defined as such, is not important enough to risk everything he’s worked for since he was fifteen.

            Liam doesn’t answer just closes his eyes. Zayn thinks Liam is just going to ignore the question that is so clearly asking for a fight, but then Liam whispers, “Have you told Taj about us?”

            Zayn wonders if he’s too scared to let this happen. If he’s asking for this fight because he doesn’t want Liam to have any control over his life. There’s a part of him that knows if he lets Liam in, Liam will have this control that he’d rather not give up to anyone. He also knows that this feeling doesn’t always happen and maybe he should grab onto it and run as fast as he can.

            “See, we both have stuff that holds us back,” Liam reasons and Zayn hates him for being so logical. Liam’s hand is still tracing patterns on Zayn’s back, but it’s more tentative now.

            “This bar is killing my back,” Liam whines as he shifts, it’s a butter knife in the stiff tension.

            “We could go crawl into the loft,” Zayn murmurs, kissing right above Liam’s nipple.

            “I feel like a teenager, having to use your friend’s place to get off.”

            “My apartment’s just too far away and we can’t go to your place.”

            “You know I’m sorry about that, you know I wish that was different.”

            “I actually don’t because I don’t know you all that well.”

            “Stop trying to push me away.”

            “Let’s go up to the loft.”

            Liam hums in response and rolls off the bed. He’s not nearly as spry as Zayn would assume a soldier would be as his knees knock loudly against the floor. Before they make their ascent, they both pull on sweatpants incase Louis comes back from Harry’s early. Getting caught naked in your friend’s place can only happen once. They climb up the narrow staircase and plop into the blanket nest on top of the Tempur-Pedic mattress. Zayn’s drifting quickly wrapped around Liam in Louis’s decadent bed, until he hears his phone go off. He nearly falls down the steep steps scrambling to pick up the call. It’s in the pocket of his chinos and he gets to it right before it goes to voicemail.

            “Hello?”

            “O thank goodness, you answered,” his mom exhales and her voice is groggy and exhausted. It makes his heart rate skyrocket.

            “Is Taj okay?”

            “Physically, he’s fine, darling, but he woke up an hour ago. He won’t stop crying and he’s only asking for you. I can’t get a coherent sentence out of him except that he wants his daddy.”

            Zayn’s chest clenches and he tastes the guilt in his mouth. He tries to swallow down the bitter and metallic taste. Before, he can ask to speak to Taj, Taj is sobbing into the phone, “Daddy, daddy?”

            “Yeah, Taj, it’s me.”

            The next sob isn’t as panic filled; it’s drenched with relief, “I thought you’d left forever like mommy.”

            “Taj, yesterday, I told you I would come and get you tomorrow,” Zayn soothes, and Zayn’s reminder doesn’t mollify his son but renews the crying.

            “But, but, I didn’t know. I wasn’t sure,” Taj weeps.

            “I’m sorry, baby, I’m so sorry. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

            “Come get me now,” Taj demands.

            “I can’t do that, Taj, I’m so far away right now. It would take me hours.”

            “That’s okay, I can wait, but I need you to come, Daddy.”

            “Taj, I’m so sorry,” Zayn responds and he nearly jumps out of his skin when Liam’s hands drop onto his shoulders. Liam squeezes his shoulders and Zayn doesn’t want to feel better because of it. He doesn’t want to rely on it, but he leans back anyways. It’s so easy.

            “Daddy,” Taj whines.

            “Go get in your bed with the phone, and I’ll sing you to sleep.”

            He hears a murmured conversation between Taj and his mom, and then Taj is clunking up the stairs to Zayn’s old bedroom.

            “I still want you to come here.”

            “And I will tomorrow, but this is going to have to do for now.”

            There’s a little whimper from the other side of the phone line, but Zayn doesn’t say anything about it because it seems resigned. He starts singing instead, “When I wake up early in the morning, lift my head, I’m still yawning...” He’s pretty sure Taj is asleep after the first run through, but he sings the song once more. He can hear the hiccupped breathing from the other side of the line and he hangs his head. He’s the worst dad in the history of dads. He’s more worried about getting his rocks off than his own flesh and blood.

            “Thanks, darling,” his mom’s relieved voice drifts into his ear.

            “I’m sorry.”

            “O no, baby, I’m sorry, I just didn’t know what to do. I’m sorry I called.”

            “Mom, it’s fine, he’s my son.”

            “Don’t start hating yourself Zayn Javadd Malik. Please, I’ll feel horrible if you start beating yourself up because I couldn’t calm down my grandson.”

            “It would never be your fault.”

            “It’s not your fault either.”

            “That’s debatable.”

            “O, Zayn.”

            “I love you, mom, I’ll see you tomorrow.”

            “I love you too, sunshine.”

            Zayn hangs up the phone and takes a deep breath that shakes. He feels more than sees Liam drop down in front of him. He doesn’t know he’s crying until Liam wipes the tears off his cheeks.

            “You’re a good dad,” Liam declares after a few minutes of crouching down in front of Zayn.

            “You don’t know that,” Zayn scoffs, “I could be a shit father and you would never know. You haven’t even met him, there’s no way you can say I’m a good dad.”

            “I know that, even at five, if I would’ve called my dad up crying, he would’ve told me to be a man and hung up on me. Or he just wouldn’t have answered. And I know my dad loves me and he was a decent dad, but man, you’re an amazing one. You just sang your son to sleep over the phone, which was beautiful.”

            “He’s only five and his mom’s dead; he’s allowed to be sad.”  

            “I didn’t say he wasn’t.”

            Zayn looks up at Liam and Liam’s face is so earnest. Zayn kisses him suddenly and it’s not sexy or loving but desperate.

* * *

            Liam isn’t expecting the teeth-clashing kiss from Zayn, but he lets him control it. He pushes Liam into the wingback chair next to the couch and crawls on top of him, keeping the kisses erratic and fraught.  Liam puts his hands on Zayn’s cheeks and tries to settle him down. Lately, their kisses have been more fond and subtle; this is some first night shirt-ripping stuff. Liam likes it and all, but he doesn’t like where it’s coming from.

            “Stop,” Liam says when Zayn moves to suck bruises into his neck, and Zayn instantly moves away, jumping off Liam like he’s all of a sudden disgusted or disgusting. Liam can’t read him. He’s slightly terrified that whatever’s happening in this minute is defining.

            Zayn’s features are cracking and Liam can’t stand it, can’t watch it. He stands and pulls Zayn into his shoulder. Liam can feel the rushed, shaky breath that Zayn releases and it makes him flex his arms around him more.  

            “Come on, you need sleep,” Liam orders, turning away from Zayn but not before reaching for his hand. He drags him up into the loft. Zayn has gone pliant and Liam pulls him into the sleeping position he knows Zayn likes the most. He wraps Zayn’s limbs around himself, but Zayn takes the liberty of pressing his face into Liam’s neck. Liam doesn’t say anything when he feels wetness accompany Zayn’s shaky breaths. He just skims his fingers over his back and hopes that reassures Zayn a little.

            Zayn wakes him up, which is such an irregularity that it makes Liam stiffen. He knows Zayn is anxious to get home so he can go pick up Taj from his folks’ place in Bedford, but it leaves a bad feeling in Liam’s gut. Zayn makes them scrambled eggs and toast. He places a few kisses on Liam’s mouth as he’s getting ready to leave and they feel so much like a final good-bye.  

            Liam takes the subway back to base and the long ride lets him think. When he’s back in his apartment, he takes a shower and then he texts Zayn asking him how Taj is. He doesn’t get a response, which isn’t highly unusual, but Liam wants to throw up or throw something nonetheless.

            He resists the urge for the rest of the day to text Zayn. He has things to do anyways. He goes to the gym, he does his laundry, he makes a few phone calls to his family, and Niall comes over to watch the Sunday night baseball game on ESPN.

            Throughout the entire game, Niall keeps glancing over at him like he’s got something to say, but he’s not sure how to voice it. Niall, who normally fan-girls the entire time any baseball game is on, is oddly intent on Liam this evening.

            “Why didn’t you tell me?” Niall asks suddenly, sounding a weird mix of offended and curious.

            “Tell you about what?”

            “You and Zayn.”

            For the second time that day, Liam feels pure dread penetrate his veins. He glances at Niall out of the corner of his eye, and he’s shocked to find that Niall doesn’t look disgusted just upset. And the despondency isn’t from Liam’s sexuality but the fact that he hasn’t told him.

            “I, uh,” Liam mumbles.

            “Don’t deny it,” Niall begins, “That’ll just make me angrier, especially since I had to find out from fucking Harry.”

            Liam just looks at Niall shocked.

            “You know you were my friend first; there is no reason Harry should have known about you guys before me. That’s a load of fucking bullshit, dude.”

            “I’m sorry.”

            “You should be.”

            “It doesn’t bother you?”

            “That you like dudes?”

            “Yeah.”

            “Have you met my oldest best friend you know the one that’s banging some Broadway actor.”

            “It’s just, it’s just.”

            “It’s just what?”

            “What about ‘Don’t ask, don’t tell’?”

            “You think I live by some archaic rule devised by the shitty US military?”

            “Umm, well since you’re a part of the ‘shitty US military,’ yes?”

            “That’s only because I like the adventure and I’m allowed to be critical of an organization I belong to. It’s my prerogative as an American.”

            “So you don’t care?”

            “Fuck no, but I do care that you didn’t tell me, that hurts man,” Niall says slapping the back of Liam’s head. Liam winces because when Niall slaps he holds nothing back.

            “Well that hurt so I guess we’re even,” Liam suggests, but Niall snorts.

            “Not even close, fucker.”

            Niall pulls him into a long hug when he leaves and promises Liam again that he doesn’t care about who Liam likes but he better know before Harry next time. At least one of Liam’s trepidations has been solved. He tries to solve the other one, but he falls asleep with his phone on his chest waiting for a response.

            The rest of the week goes by much like Sunday. Liam texts and calls Zayn with no responses. He tries to extract information out of Louis through Harry, but Harry tells him Louis is mum on the subject of Zayn and Taj, though Harry does tell him that Louis has been spending more of his time with the twosome. Liam can’t take it, he’s out of mind with worry and what he doesn’t want to acknowledge is heartbreak. His commanding officer keeps throwing him pointed looks and Liam tries valiantly to pull it together, and he hates the feeling that without Zayn all he has left is the military.

            It’s on Friday when he finds out that he’s going to get shipped out at the end of the month. This time it’s a tour in Iraq that means fifteen months away. He calls his parents and his mom cries while his dad tells him how proud he is of Liam.  He tries to call Zayn, but he’s still not answering. He wonders if he should just take the tour and use it to let himself forget about the man that he knows he could fall for.

            It only takes him thirty minutes to decide that’s not an option. He goes outside and it’s pouring; he pulls his hood up and walks to the subway. It takes three different trains and over an hour to get to Zayn’s place. When he finally gets to Zayn’s building, he’s drenched. He presses the buzzer and the door buzzes as it unlocks. He walks up to the apartment’s door and knocks. Zayn opens the door with money in his hand and Zayn fish-mouths when he sees it’s Liam and not the deliveryman. They stare at each other until there’s a little face pressing in between Zayn’s leg and the door.

            “Hi,” Taj says and Zayn looks down on him with a confused look on his face.

            “Hello,” Liam responds softly.

            “Who are you?”

            “I’m Liam.”

            “Liam,” Taj tests it out, “Did you bring us dinner?”

            “No, I umm,” Liam flounders and looks desperately at Zayn.

            “He’s my friend,” Zayn tells Taj.

            “O,” Taj says and then after a little contemplation asks, “Do you want to stay for dinner?”

            “Um, I’m not sure your dad would be okay with that.”

            “Daddy?” Taj inquires, looking up at Zayn with a furrowed brow.

            “No, Liam, come on in. We ordered pizza and I always order extra because someone likes to eat cold pizza more than he likes to eat warm pizza.”

            “Daddy,” Taj whines, “Liam, do you want to watch _Toy Story_ with us?”

            “I love _Toy Story_ ; it’s my favorite Disney movie.”

            “Me too,” Taj enthuses and grabs Liam’s hand and drags him to the living room, “Look I have all the toys.” Taj shows him his large collection of _Toy Story_ toys, which includes Hamm, Slinky Dog, and Bullseye.

            “I’m impressed,” Liam says and Taj grins. The grin is so reminiscent of Zayn that Liam’s returning smile is slightly wistful.

            “Sorry to steal your new friend, kid, but I think Liam needs to change before he catches a horrible cold,” Zayn says to Taj, handing Liam a stack of clothes. Liam goes to the bathroom and puts on the sweatpants and t-shirt. They’re a little snug but they smell like Zayn so Liam doesn’t care.

            The door buzzes again and this time it is the pizza deliveryman. Zayn brings the box into the small kitchen and calls them in. Taj zooms into the kitchen and Liam follows him at a normal person’s pace. As soon as Zayn fills a plate for him, Taj zips back out of the room.

            “Why are you here?” Zayn cuts right to the chase.

            “Because you’ve been ignoring me.”

            “That wasn’t a sign for you?”

            “Do you want me to leave?”

            “Taj will be confused if you just leave.”

            “He’s five, Zayn, I’m sure he’ll get over it after a few minutes.”

            “You don’t understand,” Zayn sighs, “I’ve never seen him talk to a stranger so much in his life, much less offer to watch a movie with him and show him his massive collection of _Toy Story_ toys. He likes you.”

            “Isn’t that a good thing?”

            “I don’t know if I can do this.”

            “Why not?”

            “Because you’re in the closet and I can’t have the person I’m dating being ashamed of us. I refuse to explain that to Taj.”

            “I’m not ashamed.”

            “You might as well be.”

            “That’s not fair.”

            “Daddy, Leeyum,” Taj calls from the living room, “I want to watch the movie.”

            “Let’s go before the pizza gets cold. I don’t like cold pizza like my son.”

            Taj hits play the minute they sit down and Liam smiles at the way Taj sits enraptured at the coffee table his eyes glued to the screen. Liam is impressed that Taj can stare at the TV and not miss his mouth when he takes a bite of pizza or picks up his glass to drink his apple juice.

            When they all finish eating, Zayn grabs the plates and takes them to the kitchen. Taj stays sitting like a pretzel at the coffee table and instead of eating he plays absently with his toys. Zayn comes back and ruffles Taj’s hair. He sits next to Liam again and Liam turns to grin at him. After a moment, Zayn’s lips turn up in the corner. Liam goes back to watching the screen and nearly jumps out of his skin when Zayn lays a hand on his thigh. He looks at him questioningly and Zayn’s features are soft and unguarded. Liam puts his arm on the back of the couch behind Zayn’s head. It’s like they’re moving in slow motion because after a few minutes Zayn leans his head against Liam’s shoulder. Then minutes later, Liam drops his arm to Zayn’s shoulder. The movie ends and Taj turns to them. Liam tenses a little but Zayn doesn’t pull away and keeps a steady hand on Liam’s thigh. Taj just tilts his head for an instance but then beams and climbs into Zayn’s lap.

            “What was your favorite part?” Taj asks Liam.

            “I love it when they’re at the gas station.”

            “That’s daddy’s favorite part too.”

            Liam looks at Zayn and Zayn nods, before speaking to Taj, “It’s bedtime.”

            Taj sighs but heads towards his room anyways, grabbing the Woody doll off the table. When Taj is out of sight, Zayn grabs the back of Liam’s neck and kisses him. Liam’s apprehension bleeds out of him and away as Zayn’s tongue presses against his lips. Zayn tastes strongly like oregano and Mountain Dew and part his usual taste which reminds Liam of the Chai tea his sister likes.

            “I missed you,” Zayn whispers onto Liam’s lips.  

            “Missed you too.”

            “Daddy, come read me a story,” Taj calls from his room.

            Zayn leaves and Liam drops his head onto the back of the couch. He tries to get the bile to go back into his stomach because he now has to tell Zayn the real reason he came. After this timidly domestic evening, this night that was so easy and was this next stop on their rickety relationship train, he’s going to have to tell Zayn that he’s leaving in two weeks.

            “Good night, Leeyum,” Taj says as he runs into the living room and waves.

            “Night, buddy,” Liam waves back.

            A few minutes after Taj runs back to his bedroom, Zayn is back on the couch curled under Liam’s arm. Zayn is flicking through the channels, looking for something to catch his attention. He settles on a John Hughes marathon.

            “Zayn, I have something else to tell you,” Liam declares, clearing his throat. Zayn mumbles into Liam’s side. “It’s kind of serious,” he adds. Zayn looks up at him and his eyes are soft, liquid, and tentatively alarmed.

            “What?”

            “I’m deploying in two weeks.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zayn and Liam don’t say goodbye or make promises.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this is a day late; I hope it's not a dollar short!  
> I really love to see and read all of your feedback!

            Zayn doesn’t focus on Liam’s face until his mouth fills with the rancid taste of partially digested pizza. He swallows and it burns when it returns to his stomach. He wants very much to either punch Liam or cry or wake up. He’d prefer just waking up. His next thought is that he’s a colossal idiot. He should have never let this man into his life, into his son’s life.

            “Repeat that,” Zayn orders, pulling away.

            “I’m deploying in two weeks.”

            “For how long? To where?”

            “Fifteen months. Iraq.”

            “Are you fucking shitting me?”

            “I understand that this is horrible timing, but I don’t really get to make decisions about my deployment.”

            “No, I really don’t think you understand,” Zayn snaps.

            “It’s not like I’m asking for a commitment here,” Liam mumbles. His face shows genuine confusion and pain. Zayn’s fingers beg to run over the skull and clutch the neck comfortingly, but Zayn also wants to punch him because he doesn’t understand at all. It’s both a relief and a headache.

            “It’s not about a commitment,” Zayn snarls, he grimaces at his response but he can’t stop because Liam needs to understand what else he’s doing, “You just let me show this relationship to my son knowing that you’d be leaving. And not only that, but to go to Iraq of all fucking places.”

            “I know that was selfish, but it was only one day. He’ll forget about me he’s only five.”

            “You honestly don’t get it, do you?”

            “Zayn,” Liam pleads.

            “Do you know that he asks me if I’m going to leave like his mom and never come back? He wonders it when I go to the grocery store or work or to go fuck you. And sometimes he calls me in the middle of the night because he thinks I’m dead and that he’s an orphan. But I’m not the only one he wonders that about. He wonders it about his grandparents, his aunts and uncles, his cousins, his babysitter, his friends, his teachers, and people he just met. He’s had this tragic lost and he’s only five. He’s terrified of death. You could die Liam you realize that, don’t you?”

            Liam has drawn his lips in between his teeth, Zayn flinches at the vulnerability and dread stamped on Liam’s face, and he watches as Liam’s eyes become damp. Zayn knows he’s hiding his emotions well because Liam looks down and shakes his head, “Maybe he’s not the only one who’s terrified.”

            “What does that mean?”

            “Maybe you’re terrified too. Maybe his mom’s death terrified you too.”

            “And death doesn’t terrify you?” Zayn scoffs, crossing his arms defensively because maybe he has been projecting his emotions and reservations onto Taj. Maybe his son would be okay if Liam left; he just doesn’t want to find out. He doesn’t want to have to see his son gloomier or more petrified than he already is and has been.  

            “It’s why I came here, but maybe that was a stupid idea,” Liam responds, rubbing the back of his neck and getting off the couch. He’s nearly at the front door before Zayn reacts. But when Zayn does, it’s a fumbled dash that ends in him plowing unceremoniously into Liam’s back. Liam steadies him with a miserable look on his face.  

            “What did you say?”

            “It was a stupid idea?” Liam asks.

            “No, no.”

            “Don’t make me say it again.”

            “Say it, please, just say it again.”

            “It’s why I came here. I came here because I’m terrified. I’m terrified of losing this. I’m terrified of dying.”

~~~~

            Zayn is just looking at him. He squints his eyes at Liam, little lines appearing next to them. It’s calculating and it’s making Liam squirm. He wants very much to turn away, but he knows Zayn will respect him more if he withstands the scrutiny.

            “I’m glad it’s not just me,” Zayn says, putting his hands on Liam’s neck and pressing their foreheads together. Liam’s hands move to the back of Zayn’s neck. Zayn kisses him and it’s the gentlest kiss Liam has ever been a part of.

            “I’m sorry about Taj,” Liam murmurs when Zayn pulls away.

            “I know.”

            “He’s wonderful, by the way.”

            Zayn closes his eyes with a longing smile on his face “Two weeks you said.”

            “Yeah, I have them off. I would usually go home, but I was just there and my parents are leaving for vacation this weekend. My sisters are going to come for a visit next week. And when I thought about the time off, I just really wanted to spend it with you.”

            “Stop.”

            “Stop what?”

            “Stop making this more difficult.”

            “How am I making this more difficult?”

            “By being so fucking sincere and quixotic.”

            “Sometimes, I have no idea what you’re saying. But can I just be that way until next week?”

            “Sure, but we are going to need to make a plan.”

            “Can we do that next week?”

            “Sure.”

            “Right now, I want you to wrap around me. I haven’t slept well since Louis’s.”

            “Stop making me miss you already.”

            Liam giggles, an honest to God giggle that would get him teased until next week if Niall heard it, Zayn smiles with his whole face, and Liam needs to touch him more. He wraps his arms around Zayn and they stumble to Zayn’s bedroom. They both strip down until they’re in their boxer-briefs. Zayn intertwines their legs and kisses Liam’s birthmark. Liam runs his fingers through Zayn’s hair and he chuckles when Zayn hums. He falls asleep quickly, contented. 

~~~

            Zayn wakes up sleep-warm and well-rested, his hand on Liam’s hip and Liam’s hand in his hair. He never slept like this with Perrie. Perrie had always wrapped herself tightly in a blanket; in fact, they’d always had their own blankets on their sides of the bed. When they’d moved in together after finding out she was pregnant, she had demanded they get a king size bed because he drove her crazy with his clinging. It had taken months to pay off and it engulfed the entirety of their small bedroom. It had been so big that Zayn had to screw shelves into the wall for pseudo-bedside tables and side step to bed every night. It had caused additional problems when they had to move their dresser into the living room when Taj was born and his crib and the dresser wouldn’t fit together. After years with Perrie, he never thought he would want to sleep this closely with anyone again, bar Louis. But here he is, tangled with this hard-muscled man who shouldn’t be cuddle-able at all.

            He can hear Taj moving around in the living room, probably playing with his toys or watching cartoons. He’ll want breakfast soon. He tries to extricate himself from Liam’s hold without waking him, and he nearly manages it. But he can’t help running a hand over Liam’s head and that causes his eyes to flutter open sluggishly.

            “Morning,” roughs out Liam. He clears his throat and smiles.

            “Good morning, I’m going to go make breakfast for Taj.”

            Panic shows clearly on Liam’s face and Zayn feels his own terror intensify. He never had to worry about this kind of terror with Perrie. He wonders if this is too much, if last night there was a weird haze that is now burning off. If Liam has realized his disastrous mistake, Zayn doesn’t know if he’ll recover.

            “I should’ve set an alarm,” Liam grouses.

            Relief injects into Zayn and he has a devastating need to laugh or cry. Instead he smiles and runs his hand over Liam’s scalp again.  Liam grabs his hand before he can pull it away and tugs him onto the bed. He face-plants into Liam’s side and it’s not at all graceful or attractive, but Liam doesn’t seem to mind as he hauls him up for a kiss.  Zayn feels his cock stir when Liam yanks on his hair as his tongue delves into Zayn’s mouth. The thing that really gets Zayn is that there isn’t much to be attracted to in this moment. He’s lying, sitting, at a weird angle that causes an aching in his spine and they both have intense morning breath, but Zayn still wants nothing more than to stay right there. He knows that they could probably get away with it too. Taj is a patient kid, but Zayn also knows that nine thirty is breakfast time on the weekends and it’s already nine twenty-five. It wouldn’t be fair to make Taj wait much longer.

            “As much as I want to stay in bed with you all day, I need to go do parent things.”

            “Mmmkay,” Liam agrees, his eyes closing. Zayn thinks he’s going back to sleep, so he turns to put on some lounge clothes and make breakfast. He’s surprised when he feels Liam press against his back, but not as surprised when Liam’s hard cock presses against his ass, “Guess, I’ll just go take care of this in the shower.”

            “Fuck,” Zayn groans as Liam thrusts lightly against him, “Maybe a quick blow job.”

            Zayn doesn’t need to look at his face to know he has that dopey beam on his face. He turns and drops to his knees. He doesn’t tease just surrounds Liam’s penis with his mouth. It doesn’t take long, Liam thrusts shallowly, and Zayn hollows his cheeks. Zayn’s throat swallows rhythmically and he kisses Liam’s twitching thighs before standing.

            He goes to open the door, but Liam covers his hand, turns him around, and drops to his knees in front of Zayn. Zayn feels his heart beating and it traps the air in his chest. Liam slides his clothes off his hips and kisses his navel to trail to his leaking dick. Liam licks hesitantly and Zayn places his hands on Liam’s shoulders in what he hopes is a comforting gesture.  Liam looks pleased and wraps his lips around the tip. Zayn doesn’t think it’s going to take much for him to come. He closes his eyes as Liam licks and sucks. He doesn’t realize his hips are moving until he hears Liam sputtering.

            “Fuck, Liam, I’m sorry,” Zayn moans, Liam looks up at him and his eyes are accepting and Zayn is a little surprised to see timid arousal. His musing is confirmed when Liam grabs his hips and pulls him in closer. He comes undone at that. When Liam pulls away, he looks really pleased with himself. He stands up and Zayn drags him in for a kiss. It’s sloppy and striking. Zayn wants nothing more than to crawl back into bed and spend the rest of the day there, pushing Liam as far as he will go. Zayn’s an arm’s reach away from heaving Liam back into bed, when there’s a light rap on the door.

            “Daddy, you said we could go to the zoo today,” Taj calls softly, “And I’m really hungry.”

            “I’m coming, kid.” Zayn responds.

            “Want to go to the zoo?” Zayn asks Liam, placing a peck on his lips.

            “Absolutely.”

            Zayn goes to the kitchen to get breakfast started, while Liam heads to the bathroom to take a shower. Zayn’s cutting up a banana for Taj’s pancakes when Taj comes in looking superbly concerned.

            “What’s wrong, kiddo?”

            “The shower’s on, but you’re in here and I’m right here. Is it a burglar or a ghost?”

            “Well wouldn’t it be silly for a burglar to let us know he or she is here and a ghost probably doesn’t need a shower.”

            “Who is it then?” Taj asks impatiently.

            “It’s Liam.”

            Taj looks pleased and then stares at Zayn. Zayn feels uncomfortable under his son’s scrutiny, which is absolutely ridiculous because he’s twenty-five and his son’s only five. It’s just this little person’s opinion is the one that matters most to Zayn.  Taj sits at the barstool at the counter and grabs a slice of banana off the cutting board. He keeps looking at Zayn as if to measure him up. Zayn finds himself doing anything to get away from the eyes that are the only visible trait reminiscent of Perrie. Taj hums knowingly like Zayn’s mom always does.  

            “Is he coming to the zoo with us?”

            “If you want me to,” Liam says, walking into the kitchen, droplets of water still visible in his buzz cut.

            “Have you ever been to the Queens Zoo?”

            “No, I don’t think I have.”

            Taj lets out an enthusiastic squeal and jumps around the kitchen, “I go all the time; I can show you around.”

            Liam grins at Taj and then sends this furtive glance to Zayn. Zayn winks at him and Liam blinks at him determinedly which Zayn assumes is supposed to be a returning wink. He chuckles fondly as he pours the batter onto the skillet.

* * *

            Liam is set to leave in two days. He only has two days left. This is his second tour and yet his nerves are far more nauseating this time.  He knows that it’s because this time he has something he wants to stay in the States for. Something far more important to him than loyalty to his country, but the thing is he is loyal. He’s going to do his job because it’s what he’s signed up for and the Army has done a lot for him over the years.

            He had been bullied a lot as a kid. It was never anything precise because there hadn’t been much to bully. Maybe that had been the problem: he wasn’t specifically smart or athletic or attractive, but he had been specifically sweet. And if there’s one thing middle schoolers and high schoolers hate it’s someone who’s sweet, though they can never pinpoint that as the trait they detest. He had joined the JROTC for something to do, something to forget the names he was called, and maybe to have people to hang out with at lunch. He had found that and more when he got buff, and the result was the bullying had stopped. His high school days went from miserable to bearable and that was all thanks to the US Military. He felt a loyalty to the Army because it had saved his life and he wanted to repay that if he could by protecting others.

            It’s just now; it was ruining his life. The last week and a half had been idyllically domestic; he had spent more time in bed and picking up toys than he had any other time in his life. While some people might find home-life excruciatingly boring, Liam wants to drown in it. He had introduced Zayn to his sisters and it had gone more splendidly than he wanted. Ruth had gotten this sad smile on her face and almost started crying. Nicola had pulled Zayn to the side and lectured him until Taj saved Zayn with his long description of their trip to the Queens Zoo. Zayn and his sisters had ended up chatting like old friends and Liam had felt a little bit left out.

            Currently, Zayn is tracing Liam’s abs with his index finger and Liam feels the involuntarily contractions that are making Zayn smirk. He wishes he could put this supple, teasing Zayn in his pocket and bring him out when he’s lying on the cot in bumble-fuck Iraq hoping to hell his team makes it to their destination hours away through car bomb riddled routes and that the hours move faster, closer to home.

            “Will you promise to give me a chance when I get back?” Liam sighs into Zayn’s downy locks.

            “What are you talking about?” Zayn demands as he pulls away to make eye contact with Liam.

            “I don’t want you to promise you’ll wait for me. I don’t want you to make a commitment to me. I just want a chance in fifteen months.”

            “I actually don’t understand you.”

            “I don’t want a promise because fifteen months is a really long time and…”

            “And you think I’m a cheater,” Zayn laments as he swings his leg over the edge of the bed.

            “No, no, it’s not that Zayn, it’s really not. It’s just, it’s just…”

            “What? Explain it to me. Dig yourself out of this hole.”

            “I won’t be able to communicate with you like other soldiers and their significant others. It will only be innocuous emails because traditionally Skye is reserved for families and significant others of the opposite sex. You’ll start to resent me and I won’t be able to come home knowing you resent me or that you have found escape in others when we made a bunch of promises. I just want a chance. I want you to date other people, and when I come back I want a chance. It will make it better to return, especially if you give me that chance, that I won’t have to make up for it or overcome a resentment that will eat us both alive. I can’t change the US Military but I can let you back out, at least for a while.”

            “What if I don’t want to?”

            “That’s fine, but if you ever start resenting me, I want you to go out and do something about it without feeling guilty like you’re cheating. Because you’re not a cheater, I don’t want you to be angry when I come back. I want to see you smile.”

            “Okay, but I don’t like this.”

            “I understand.”

            The next morning Liam wakes up early; he nuzzles Zayn awake who groans but doesn’t roll away. Liam traces every one of Zayn’s tattoos with either his tongue or fingertips. They rock smoothly together and unlike the morning three weeks ago it doesn’t feel like a goodbye, even though it should. It feels like a promise that Liam doesn’t want.     


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zayn and Liam aren’t handling being a part very well, Zayn especially.

            It’s soft kisses and closed eyes with disheartened smiles that morning. Zayn presses his hands under Liam’s shirt and his face into the crook of his neck while Liam placates him with his melodic hums. Zayn makes banana-chocolate-chip pancakes and kisses Liam with syrup and powdered-sugar on their tongues. Taj sits quietly at the table and while that wouldn’t usually concern Zayn, Liam brings out a loquacious side of Taj that’s missing this final morning. Liam has his fingers threaded through Zayn’s. Their hands rest between their plates and Taj glances at them every so often. Occasionally, he makes a disconcerted sound but continues eating.   

            “Are you going to come back?” Taj asks finally as he’s dragging the last piece of pancake through his syrup puddle.

            “I hope so,” Liam responds honestly.

            “But you might not?”

            “Well it is more dangerous than most situations.”

            “But you’re going to be careful?”

            “Of course.”

            “Can I send you letters and pictures?”

            “I would love that.”

            “So we could be pen pals?”

            “Yeah, bud, I’d like that.”

            “’Kay.”

            Liam grins at him and an almost imperceptible smile appears on Taj’s face.  Liam stands up and ruffles Taj’s hair as he takes his dishes to the sink. The smile gets bigger and when Liam opens his arms, Taj jumps into them nearly knocking the plate out of Liam’s hand. He doesn’t cry though, but he does take deep breaths that shake a little on the inhale. It’s hard though for Zayn to figure out who is shaking more because Liam closes his eyes painfully.

            Zayn really wishes he could understand this connection that they seem to have with Liam. It’s like there are these delicate ropes that just appeared the moment they met him, but Zayn doesn’t really believe in fate. He doesn’t want to be the heroine of some Fabio-covered romance novel, but he feels an undeniable connection to Liam that his son seems to feel too.

            As Liam is getting ready to leave, Taj skitters off to his bedroom, and Zayn wonders if it might be too much for him to handle. Liam looks a bit putout but doesn’t say anything. He’s kissing Zayn and every time he pulls away Zayn leans in for another because he knows eventually one of these will be the last.

            Liam is nearly out the door when Taj plows into him with a strangled yelp. He’s waving his arms around and shouting nonsensically. Liam hoists him into his arms and Taj is still muttering to himself but he gives Liam his best smile.

            “What’s wrong, bud?”

            “I had to find him.”

            “Who?”

            “Woody, he’ll protect you. I want you take him with you,” he explains, thrusting a tiny Woody plush into Liam’s hand.

            Zayn knows how much that toy means to Taj; it was something that Perrie’s parents gave him before they moved. He keeps it in his bed at all times and Zayn doesn’t realize there are tears on his face until both Liam and Taj are staring at him. Liam pulls him into his side and Zayn goes willingly. He smiles at Taj who grins back.

            “Thanks, bud,” Liam says, kissing the crown of Taj’s head. He kisses Zayn in the exact same place and then he’s squeezing them both close one last time. With a slight wave, Liam slips out the door.

            “He’s going to come back, right?” Taj asks.

            “I hope so,” Zayn responds.

            The first month is real shit. Taj asks Zayn a lot of questions about the military and the war, and Zayn doesn’t get any response to his e-mails. Even though letters arrive for Taj every few weeks, Zayn gets radio silence and longing. It’s a fucked up kind of longing. A longing built on not enough time and the memory of sweet words, soft touches, and hot kisses.

            It gets better when Taj goes on summer break. There’s a flurry of activity around the apartment, and Zayn doesn’t have to think about the fact that Liam barely responds to his e-mails and when he does it’s so halfhearted. He can focus on all the excursions Taj wants to go on and the games he wants to play. He makes a deal with Waliyha to be Taj’s summer nanny for room and board and five hundred dollars. She commandeers his bedroom, which honestly helps remove some of the longing, and he ends up on Taj’s trundle bed.  The one-on-one attention from Waliyha is exactly what Taj needs, and even though he sends letters and pictures regularly to Liam, he doesn’t seem sad or scared about it.

            In mid-July, Zayn goes out with Harry and Louis to a bar that Harry’s friend works at. He’s probably way too many beers in, and he should just lean against Louis until it wears off a little. Of course, that’s not what he does, instead when a girl with a mini dress and fuck-me heels brushes against him as she’s reaching to get the martini she ordered, he grins at her. They chat and it’s about the most inane shit Zayn can think of because all he really wants is to get those bee-stung lips around his cock. He waits a good fifteen minutes before asking her.

            “Wanna blow me in the bathroom?” He drawls into her ear and she sucks in a breath but smirks and nods.

            They stumble to the bathroom and Zayn locks the door behind them. She gets right to work, unbuttoning his pants, and pulling them down with his boxers. They’re around his knee and she’s crouching in front of him. She’s a fucking expert blowjob deliverer, but Zayn almost goes flaccid when he thinks about how her expert tongue has nothing on Liam’s enthusiasm. He comes in her mouth and then she walks to the sink and spits almost delicately into it. She kisses him as he’s pulling up his pants. Her mouth tastes like him, vodka, and something sweet, and he hates it. She brings his hand down between her legs and he lets her guide him until she’s humming against his lips and quivering against his fingers. She goes to say something, but he washes his hand and walks out, leaving her stunned.

            She’s not the only stunned one; Louis is still sitting at the bar with Harry his face pinched in a judgmental expression. He’s expecting the same look to be marring the younger man’s face, but instead he just sees an almost resigned look as Harry stares into his beer.  Louis makes eye contact with him and the scorn hurts; Zayn flips Louis off and keeps walking out of the bar.

            He takes a cab home and the fee is astronomical. He has to pound on the door because his sister has put the chain over the door, not expecting him home tonight, and her cell phone is turned off. She comes to the door and he cackles when he sees her bedraggled hair and sleep-mused clothes brandishing a knife. After she puts the knife down and sizes him up, she shoves him roughly. His back smacks into the door and a pain shoots in his shoulder blade.

            “What was that for?” He yells indignantly.

            “Liam and Taj,” She hisses.

            “Whatever,” he responds; the wind knocking right out of his sails, “I’m going to bed.”

            “You go in that room and I will murder you. Sleep on the couch you disgusting fuck.”

            “I’ll do whatever the fuck I want.”

            “You go in there and your son will be scared. You’re a fucked S.O.B if you subject him to that.”

            He turns away from her and tries not to sprint to the bathroom. Her words replay in his mind and he vomits the contents of his stomach into the toilet. The entire night replays and he can’t stop the wave of nauseous from taking hold. When he’s sure that he has nothing left to throw up, he climbs slowly to his feet and brushes his teeth. He rifles through the linen closet for a blanket. He finds Perrie’s old quilt from college and he throws that on the couch. He gets himself a Gatorade from the fridge and forces himself to drink it before passing out on the couch. A few hours later, Taj is poking him awake. He blinks and his head screams while his stomach roils. Taj looks perturbed.

            “Daddy, you’re taking up the whole couch and I want to watch cartoons.”

            “Sorry,” he croaks.

            “Are you sick?”

            “You could say that.”

            “Gramma always says you should sleep when you’re sick.”

            “That’s probably a good idea,” he responds as he drags himself to Taj’s room.

            His sister is not so gentle when she wakes him up two hours later. She’s making an awful racket with the cymbals she bought Taj as a joke one year, a cruel, horrible joke.

            “You are a fuck,” she tells him succinctly.

            “Fuck off.”

            “Louis texted me because even though you’re a big prick, he still wanted to make sure you got home. He also told me what you did and you are a fuck,” She says as she pulls the covers off him. He rolls over so his face is pressed into the pillow and flips her off. It’s not that he disagrees with her; it’s just that he doesn’t like having his nose rubbed in it.  

            Louis doesn’t respond to his texts or talk to him until Taj’s birthday party. Louis and Harry both give him the most condemning looks, Harry must have been practicing, as they shove their gifts into his outstretched hands when they come in. Louis’s face immediately switches as Taj throws himself into Louis’s arms, introducing him to his friends. Harry takes longer to drop his and Zayn realizes that Harry is burning holes into the presents with his eyes. The first has Louis’s scrawl on it. It’s addressed to Taj, of course, and signed from both Louis and Harry. He sets it on the birthday table and looks down at the second present. He nearly drops it like a sizzling coal. It’s not Liam’s handwriting, it must be Harry’s, but it’s signed from Liam. He turns to look at Harry who blows air out of his nose in a sardonic laugh.

            Zayn has to rush to the bathroom. He slams the door closed and splashes water on his face. He wants to end the party, curl up in his own bed, put on the sweatshirt Liam left, and wallow. He doesn’t, of course, but he splashes the water onto his face a few more times just to be sure no tears will leak out of his eyes. He rejoins the party and it makes him feel better when he sees concern flash across Louis’s features.

            The party is good and Taj has an amazing time. He squeals in delight when he opens Liam’s present: _Toy Story_ monopoly and _Ratatouille_ and _Cars_ DVDs. When most of his guests leave, Taj makes Zayn and Louis play monopoly with him but Harry has to leave for a shift at the restaurant. Before bed, they watch _Cars_ and Taj tells Zayn in a sleep haze that he misses Liam. Zayn agrees and gets a sad look from Louis.

            Zayn tries to convince himself not to be jealous of Taj’s communication with Liam, but he still is. His son gets regular letters and mentions in Liam’s e-mails. Zayn feels like an idiot being jealous of a five-year-old but he can’t help it. He sends a birthday card to Liam in August and gets a simple thank you letter in response.

            Taj and Waliyha go back to school in the beginning of September, Louis and Harry move in together after Louis’s lease is up, and Zayn sinks a little deeper into his funk. Taj is busy almost constantly and so happy that Zayn doesn’t want to bring him down so he puts on a show that takes every ounce of his energy. Everybody is so immersed in what they’re doing and Zayn feels like he’s just waiting around. He has a show in Manhattan in late September. Louis invites him to crash on their couch and he accepts.

            They decide to go out that night; mainly, Zayn thinks, because they don’t want to spend time alone with his depressed ass. Harry wants to go dancing, so they end up at a club near their apartment. To dance, Zayn needs to drink and that’s not so hard because that’s how he’s been forgetting anyways. He’s seven beers in and he’s starting to tilt when he walks. When hands fix onto his hips, he doesn’t pull away. He just sways along with him.

            “Come on, let’s go,” Louis yells over the bass. He’s angry, if his eyebrows are any indication, but Zayn doesn’t care.

            “He’s good,” says the burly dude whose hand curls possessively around Zayn’s hip.

            “He’s anything but good,” Louis hisses back, and Zayn knows he’s livid and he likes it.

            “No, I’m good,” Zayn says as he leans back to kiss the guy.

            Louis’s jaw clicks closed and Zayn smirks back. He turns around and presses his groin to the guy’s. For all practical purposes, they’re dry-humping; in response, Louis huffs off. Because he can’t think of anything better, he goes home with the guy and lets him fuck him into the mattress. The guy doesn’t even seem to care if Zayn gets off and Zayn has to tug himself off before pulling on his clothes. He leaves right after and takes the subway home. It kind of feels like he has a death wish and he’s thankful no one’s at his place when he gets there. Taj is safe at his parents’.

            Louis doesn’t speak to him again until October. He’s promised Taj a trip to the zoo before it gets too cold. Zayn is outside smoking a cigarette when Louis arrives. Louis literally smacks the cigarette out of his lips and glares.

            “What the fuck? Seriously, what the fuck?” Louis screams in his face and Zayn almost tells him to be quiet, but the yelling is at least making him feel something.

            “What the fuck is with you? I’m just having a smoke.”

            “You’ve barely smoked since Taj was born and you vowed after Perrie that you would quit completely.”

            “I did.”

            “I know; that’s where my fucking problem lies.”

            “Sometimes, I need one.”

            “You need to stop being a whiny fuck and admit you miss him. Don’t go leaving your son an orphan because you’re emotionally constipated.”

            “If I’m emotionally constipated, I’m not the only one. I’ve just been following his lead.”

            “What are you talking about? What about the letter Harry gave you at Taj’s party?”

            “What are you talking about?” Zayn asks incredulously.

            “The letter Harry was supposed to give you at Taj’s party.”

            “He never gave me anything,” Zayn says and now he’s superbly confused.

            Louis gets so angry that he can barely scroll through his contacts to call Harry; Louis walks away to have a whispered-yelling match. Louis’s face when he looks at Zayn has so much remorse, but Zayn really doesn’t care. He just wants his letter. They go upstairs and when Harry arrives, he looks petulant. Louis won’t make eye contact with him and Zayn doesn’t want them to end. As mad as he is at Harry, he doesn’t want this to break apart their relationship. Louis tells Harry to leave though and Zayn doesn’t stop him.

            He reads the letter and he feels like the words are stitching up his heart.

* * *

            Liam wonders if his letter to Zayn got lost, removed from Harry’s letter, if Harry didn’t understand what he was supposed to do with it, if Harry hasn’t given it to him, or worst if Zayn doesn’t really care anymore. But he doesn’t think it’s the worst, or really he has to hope it’s not the worst, because then why would Zayn keep up the innocuous e-mails and letters and cards. Surely, he just hasn’t seen it.

            The mail is also sporadic so maybe the response got lost somewhere on its long travel. He’s not going to be getting mail now for a while. They’re in transit and communication between units on the ground is rough, not to mention communication home.

            He has to keep himself busy to keep from being miserable, so when they’re not traveling or going on missions, he plays soccer with Niall in their makeshift camps or cards with the rest of the guys. Niall and his constant smiles keep everyone’s spirits up and his own countdown helps Liam focus.

            These have been the longest months of his life and the only thing keeping him from wallowing in his sadness is the Woody doll he keeps in his left breast pocket, Zayn’s Batman shirt that he wears to bed, and a drawing of their trip to the zoo.

            He’s lying on his cot now, toying with the little doll and smiling. He knows Taj liked his gifts; Taj and Zayn had reported that. He itches to curl up on the worn sofa with those two right now and watch as many Disney-Pixar movies as they can. He doesn’t want the combat, even though he used to live for it, he wants domesticity. Tomorrow, they’re heading through one of the most dangerous areas on their route. They’ve been warned about the car bombs; his CO wants him to drive. He’s the most cautious and apt driver they have. He doesn’t want to think about his reality. He closes his eyes and imagines that he’s back in the states and not in the middle of the desert.

            The next morning most of the trip goes off without a hitch. It’s when they’re almost in the safety zone that something goes wrong. Liam gets an inkling that something is wrong before his mind even realizes the cause. The beat up sedan on the side of them is not filled with people. It’s full of dummies and one bomber in the driver’s seat. Liam swerves and punches the accelerator. 


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zayn and Liam are reunited after Liam’s accident.

            Zayn loves Louis; he really does, but Louis can be such a pain in the ass. Heart-broken Louis is even more of a pain in the ass. When Zayn had offered to let Louis stay with them until he could figure out what he was going to do, he thought Louis would spend one, tops three, nights bitching about Harry but then go back to their apartment in Chelsea. It’s been a week and Louis’s constant presence is putting a strain on Zayn and Taj. Louis wavers between bitching, solemn sniffling, and manic running about. A lot of nights, Taj just watches Louis with a creased brow and heavy sighs.

            Nearly two weeks after Harry brought Zayn his long awaited letter, Taj asks Zayn at bedtime, “Why can’t Uncle Lou go back to living with Harry? Harry’s nice. Harry knows how to live with Uncle Lou.”

            “Harry made a mistake and Uncle Lou isn’t sure he wants to forgive him.”

            “What did Harry do?”

            “He kept something a secret because he was mad at me and thought he was protecting Liam.”

            Taj thinks for a minute, climbs out of bed, and then runs into the living room where, today, Louis is wallowing on the couch. Taj hops up onto the couch and wraps his arms around Louis’s neck. He hugs Louis and then stares at his face. Louis is shying away under the scrutiny. Zayn would be the first to admit that a stare from Taj makes him uncomfortable. It is easy to forget that he’s only six when those orbs bore into you. Finally, Taj says, “You shouldn’t be mad at Harry. He was just trying to be a good friend and I think he loves you. He looks at you like my grandpa looks at my grandma.”

Louis tilts his head and ruffles Taj’s thick hair. Louis kisses Taj’s forehead and says, “You’re very smart for a six year old.” 

            “Grammy always says that when we talk on the phone.”

            “You must not get it from your dad,” Louis says and Zayn snorts. 

            “Uncle Lou,” Taj nags but giggles anyways. 

            “Taj, you really need to go to bed,” Zayn reminds, “You have school tomorrow.”

            Taj sighs but bounces off the couch. 

            “Good night, Taj,” Louis calls, “See you tomorrow after-school.”

            “I hope not,” Taj responds as he skips to his bedroom. Zayn laughs with his whole body at the insulted look on Louis’s face. 

            “I think he just means that he hopes you go home,” Zayn appeases.

            “Don’t try to stick up for your insolent spawn,” Louis mutters. 

            Zayn chuckles and goes to tuck Taj in. Taj looks apprehensive when Zayn walks into the room. On a rush of air, he asks, “You don’t think Uncle Lou is mad, do you?”

            “No, I think you just gave Uncle Lou the kick in the butt that he needs.” 

            Taj’s face turns up into a grin and he looks satisfied enough to go to sleep. Taj reads an easy reader book to Zayn and Zayn reads him a chapter from Harry Potter. 

            “Good night, Taj.”

            “Night.”

            Zayn wanders back into the living room to find Louis still sitting on the couch. This time, though, Louis is staring at his phone with a concerted look. Zayn knows he’s contemplating calling Harry. 

            “You should call him,” Zayn says finally. 

            “He made you miserable for months.”

            “Not really, though, I made myself miserable.” 

            “He compounded it.”

            “That may be true, but he did it to protect Liam. Would you have given Liam a heart-bearing letter from me if you knew he had cheated on me?”

            “Absolutely not.”

            Zayn raises his eyebrows and Louis huffs. 

            “That’s totally different.”

            “Is it?”

            “All right.”

            “Louis, you know I’m really grateful that you’re so angry on my behalf, but even you were saying I was being a prick about the entire situation. I did some really shitty things and I don’t really blame Harry for what he did. If I can forgive him, so should you.”

            “The thing is, I just never imagined that Harry could be so vindictive.” 

            “I don’t know; maybe, it was just him being protective.”

            “Stop sticking up for him.”

            “I’m just trying to be less of a dick and start being reasonable Zayn again.” 

            “That would be nice; I’m not very good at being the reasonable one.”

            “I know.”

            “It’s very strenuous.”

            Zayn laughs and drops onto the couch next to Louis, burying his face into Louis’s neck. Louis presses his cheek to Zayn’s hair. 

            “So you think I should call him?” Louis mumbles. 

            “Yeah, I do.” 

            “Can I invite him over here? I feel like if I go back to our…his place, we’ll just end up in bed together.”

            “’Course.” 

            Louis sighs but scrolls through his contacts anyways. The conversation is rather stilted and safe, but Louis’s smile tells Zayn that he’ll probably be out of the apartment soon. 

            “He said he’ll be over after his shift.” 

            “Batman movies?”

            “Batman movies,” Louis agrees. 

            Zayn goes into the kitchen, grabs a two-liter bottle of Mountain Dew, and pops some buttery popcorn. Louis has already set up the DVD player and has a blanket wrapped around his shoulders. Louis falls asleep halfway through Batman Returns with his head in Zayn’s lap. Zayn knows he should probably go to sleep because he has to work tomorrow, but he’s actually a little nervous for this reunion. He thinks it may be a precursor for his reunion with Liam. He wants it to turn out well. 

            There’s a gentle knock on the door as Zayn is nodding off. He extricates himself from Louis’s firm grip and moves to the door. When he opens the door, Harry is there, shifting back and forth on his long legs. He looks incredibly young and Zayn for a second has the urge to protect him. 

            “Hi,” Zayn says.

            “I’m sorry,” Harry rushes, “Really, man, I’m very sorry.”

            “It’s okay; I promise. Go win him back.”

            Zayn is always alarmed by how endearing Harry’s smile is. The smile that makes him seem so young and vulnerable. How wanting to protect Harry is like pure instinct, like protecting Taj or Safaa or Waliyha. Zayn pats Harry’s shoulder as he passes him into the apartment. 

            Louis’s standing with his arms crossed, but Zayn can see the hope in his sleep-blurred eyes. Louis and Harry stand for a moment just looking at each other. Harry keeps scuffing his feet and looking down with his curls falling into his eyes. Zayn goes into the kitchen to make tea; it’s something his mom would do if people were having a serious conversation. 

            When he walks back into the living room, Harry is sitting on the couch looking down at his twiddling thumbs and Louis is sitting in the chair talking in low tones. Louis pauses momentarily in his speech when he sees Zayn. All three sets of lips turn up tentatively, Zayn hands them both mugs, and then he heads down the hallway to his room. He vaguely registers Louis climbing into his bed in the wee hours of the morning.

            “Everything okay?” Zayn croaks out. 

            “Yeah, thanks, Zee.”

            Zayn wakes up and is immediately hit with the smell of breakfast cooking. He can feel the grin spread across his face. He shoves Louis’s shoulder who grumbles but then smells it too. 

            “Part of the reason I wanted curly back,” he jokes, and Zayn guffaws. 

As much as Zayn would like to stay in bed all day, he needs to wake up Taj and get him ready for school. He goes and wakes Taj up who jumps out of bed with the wonderful smells wafting from the kitchen. Taj skids into the kitchen and runs to find Louis. 

“Hi, Harry,” Taj says, very emphatically. 

“Hey,” Harry responds as he flips a pancake, “Want some pancakes?”

“Yeah!” 

            Louis kisses the back of Harry’s neck, and Zayn is expecting a heavy sigh from Taj. Instead his son grins and claps lightly. He ruffles Taj’s hair. 

* * *

 

            The first thing Liam’s brain registers is that his leg feels like a smoldering fire. It’s hot and achy, but the burning sensation is muted. He hypothesizes that it’s probably muted by painkillers because the rest of his body feels heavy and uncontrollable and his thoughts are jumbled, fuzzy, and nearly incoherent. He blinks awake and he’s not entirely sure why he thinks he should be back on his cot. There’s no way the medics have pain meds this good. He should have expected the sterilized hospital room, but it’s still shocking. He presses the red call button on his bed. A middle-aged woman who reminds him so much of his mother that it hurts rushes in. When she sees his confused expression, she beams reassuringly at him. 

            “It’s good to see you awake, Sergeant Payne.”

            “Liam,” he says off-handedly, “What happened, where am I, what’s wrong with my leg?”

            “You drove off the road when you saw a suicide bomber and you saved everyone in your caravan, but your Humvee wasn’t far enough away when the bomb went off and flipped. You’re in Germany. You shattered your femur; it’ll need surgery. Right now it’s bandaged up pretty well, but the surgery will be necessary before it starts to completely heal itself.”

            “Has somebody called my parents?”

            “Yes, they said they’re flying to New York to be there when you get there. The recommendation is since you’re relatively stable that you are flown to Keller Army Community Hospital to have your surgery and recovery there. This surgery is completely routine, but you would have to be here for two more weeks if we did it here. We speculated that you’d rather be near home.”

            “How long is recovery going to take?”

            “At least six months. Shattering your femur is serious. It’s a long process.” 

            “So I can make it back to America without a problem?”

            “Most likely.”

            “I’d like to go as soon as possible.”

            “I thought you’d say that; there’s a flight back tomorrow morning.”

            Liam calls his parents who both sob in relief when he tells them his leg hurts but he’s fine. They’ve got a hotel room at the place they used to stay at when they would visit him at West Point. He can’t deny he’s excited to go home alive, but he does feel guilty that he’s leaving his comrades, his friends, in the dangerous situation they were supposed to be in together. 

            The transport is painful and exhausting but getting to see his parents when he lands makes it worth it. He lets his mom baby him and she leaves him with a box of her homemade cookies and a sweater she knitted for him. He cuddles down into the sweater and begs milk off the nurse to eat half a dozen cookies with. 

            The doctors address him in the morning after he gets there and they plan the surgery for that afternoon. It’s all big words and medical proclamations and all he can think about is how close he is to Zayn, how much he wants to see him, how much he wants those fingers to run over his head, and how much he wants those lips to kiss him. 

            He doesn’t get the chance to call Zayn until two days after his surgery, when his mom has her phone fully charged and leaves it with him while she and his dad go to grab dinner. It’s around the time that Zayn usually gets home from work, so he hopes Zayn will pick up even though he doesn’t recognize the number. The phone rings five times and Liam almost gives up.

            “Hello?” Zayn says tentatively. 

            “Hey,” Liam says, “It’s Liam.”

            “Fuck,” Zayn sighs, but it’s a happy sigh, at least Liam hopes it’s a happy sigh, “Where are you?”

            “Keller Army Hospital,” Liam informs, and this time the noise is definitely alarmed, “I’m okay.”

            “You wouldn’t be at a hospital in America, if you were okay,” Zayn snaps.

            “Okay, I broke my femur, but they’ve completed the surgery. They said the healing is going really well.” 

            “Good,” Zayn comments.

            “You sound far off,” Liam says and he hopes it doesn’t sound desperate but he kind of is desperate. 

            “I was just Google-ing how far away you are.”

            “You can’t come.”

            “Why not?”

            “Because I won’t be able to hide how I feel about you.”

            “I’ll figure something out.”

            “You will?”

            “Yeah, I need to see you, make sure you’re okay, see you for myself,” Zayn confesses, “Plus, Taj will really want to see you. He’s missed you and your letters.” 

            “I’m sorry about that.”

            “Don’t be, especially now that you’re so close. Just say we can come.”

            “You can come.”

            “We’ll be there Saturday, bright and early at ten.”

            “I can’t wait.”

            “Me neither.”

            It’s hard to convince his parents to take in the sights on Saturday morning. There’s nothing they haven’t seen before, but they agree thinking he needs a break from them. He feels guilty for making them feel overbearing, but they can read him so well and he doesn’t want them there while he moons over Zayn. 

            He wakes up extraordinarily early on Saturday and feels like he’s getting ready for a first date. His hair is getting a little long. He hasn’t gotten it cut since he was near an actual base overseas. It’s soft and he’s running his hands through it, hoping it looks okay. He tries to look presentable in the sweats his mom brought him. 

            There’s a soft knock on his door and then Taj is sprinting into the room. Taj is babbling and jumping next to his bed. Liam reaches out to ruffle the boy’s dark locks. Zayn walks in slowly and Harry is right behind him. Liam realizes the reason Zayn is so close to Harry is because their hands are linked. Harry turns to shut the door and Zayn immediately drops his hand. Liam’s face must give away his confusion and discomfort. 

            “It’s to throw off the nurses. I was worried my fondness for you might show through and I know how much the military means to you,” he rushes and then mumbles, “Who knows why.”

            Liam ignores the second comment because Zayn is striding over to kiss him and he doesn’t want to bicker today. The kiss is gentle and Liam wonders if they can fall right back into what they had before he left. He doesn’t see the shimmer of guilt in Zayn’s eyes when he pulls back from the kiss too distracted by Taj trying to get his attention.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Liam needs somewhere to go to finish healing.

            Zayn’s not sure how to feel now that Liam is back. He’s relieved, for sure, but the guilt has also intensified. It was easier to brush off the one-night stands when he thought Liam had stopped caring. Now that he’s back and he’s his usual Liam-self and Zayn realizes that Liam never stopped caring, Zayn feels his wrongdoings pressing on his consciousness. The only thing saving him is that Liam had told him not to wait for him. Liam had made him promise to not resent him, and Zayn doesn’t; he resents himself more than he can resent Liam. It was a misunderstanding that was out of both of their controls.

            They go to visit Liam again and Taj brings his art supplies. While Liam doesn’t have many artistic skills, he spends a majority of their visit with Taj pushed against his side shading a tree and laughing as Taj tells him about school. Zayn wishes their lives could be easier. It’s not that gay relationships are unanimously accepted, but they’re relatively accepted in mainstream culture, especially in New York City. It’s the military that’s stopping them. They’re on the phone one night after their contented visit when Zayn finally confronts the military topic. 

            “No one would blame you if you left now,” Zayn says. 

            “I don’t know about that. Have you met Niall?” Liam’s voice is teasing, but it has an undercurrent of non-discussion. 

            “‘Don’t ask, Don’t tell’ could run our relationship into the ground.”

            “We don’t have to let it. The military means a lot to me. It’s part of who I am. Leaving will run us into the ground. This isn’t up for discussion.”

            “Liam,” Zayn sighs and then lets it hang before asking, “When are you going to get out of the hospital?”

            “A few days, but they say I have to rest, not walk much for another week or so. My mom wants to come home with me, but we’re not sure how that’s going to work out. She’s got a job back in Iowa.” 

            “You could come stay with me and Taj.” 

            “Zayn?”

            “Give us those two months before you’re suppose to start desk duty and then you can make the decision about whether you’re going to go back.”

            “I’ll go back, Zayn, that’s not really up for debate.”

            “The offer still stands.”

            “I voted for Obama; he says he wants to repeal ‘Don’t ask, Don’t tell’.” 

            “I voted for him too.”

            “I don’t want to hide away Zayn. I need you to know that.” 

            “It’s hard to feel like that, when we have to sneak around.”

            “You can’t come to my place, trust me not a big loss; you can’t meet my work friends, also not a big loss. This is in your head Zayn.”

            “Two months?”

            “Fine, two months.” 

            Zayn’s flash of anger makes the guilt subside a little. Even though it’s still there, niggling at the back of every thought of Liam. Zayn tries to rationalize his actions. After all, he didn’t actually cheat because Liam had given him permission. It even sounds weak to his own ears. 

            Louis keeps telling him that he should tell Liam anyway and Harry keeps saying he should get tested. Zayn isn’t sure if he likes Harry all that much anymore. Zayn knows that what Harry keeps saying is probably true, even though he’s sure that guy had put on a condom. He wasn’t, isn’t, a complete idiot. 

* * *

            Liam is not sure how he’s going to convince his mom to go back to Iowa, but he absolutely has to. Zayn has offered to let him stay at his place, even though it does come with the added pressure of Zayn wanting him to end his career. Since he now has a two-month leave of absence before he even has to go back to desk duty, he is going to take full advantage of Zayn’s offer. It’s selfish, he knows, because he has no intention of quitting but he wants what he can get from Zayn. Yet his mother won’t listen to his reassurances that he’ll be fine on his own. She won’t even listen to reason; he keeps reminding her that she will more than likely lose her job at the library if she doesn’t go home soon. She just stares at him like he’s a ghost come back to life and she can’t let him slip through her fingers. He knows his parents aren’t strapped for cash, but they still need the money.  They both need to work for their lives to be comfortable. 

            “A friend says I can stay with him while I get better.”

            “I want to meet him.”

            “Mom,” Liam whines like he’s twelve again. 

            “If he’s going to be taking care of my baby, I need to meet him.” 

            Liam is panicking; he can feel his heart racing and the hairs stand up on the back of his neck. He doesn’t want to but his mind can’t come up with an excuse, so he just nods and mumbles, “Okay.”

            He feels bad asking Zayn to come up during the week, especially when he knows that Zayn has to leave early from work, but Zayn doesn’t make a peep about it. In fact, he seems to think it’s completely reasonable for Liam’s mom to want to meet him. Zayn and Taj arrive before Liam’s mom. Taj is showing him books he got at the school library and explaining how he’s going to Chicago to visit his Grammy and Poppa for Christmas break. Taj is tucked up next to Liam on the hospital bed, and Zayn has his hand on Liam’s thigh, leaning back in the stiff visitor’s chair. His face is soft and Liam is pretty sure he’s fallen asleep with his head resting against the wall. Liam should probably move Zayn’s hand, but the nurses always knock and his mom isn’t expected for another hour. The warmth and intimacy that radiates up his leg are making him take more risks than he should. Liam is so entranced with Taj’s dramatic explanation of his trip to see the Nutcracker with Louis and Harry that he doesn’t hear the door open or the light tap of his mom’s shoes when she arrives fifteen minutes early. 

            “Oh,” she gasps, and Liam’s first reaction is to push Zayn’s hand off his thigh. He wants to brush it off, and she would probably accept that. She would never mention it again, but she would wonder. He looks down at the hand and then into his mom’s eyes and back down to the paint-stained digits and swallow tattoo. He reaches his hand down and threads his fingers through Zayn’s. Zayn mumbles a little, squeezes his hand, and goes back to sleeping. He can’t read her face and the fear that his mom will reject this, reject him, terrifies him. Taj must feel his uncertainty because he suddenly stops talking and crams his face into Liam’s neck.

            “It’s okay, bud, that’s my mom,” Liam whispers into Taj’s hair. Taj peeks his face out, sends her a shy grin, and turns back into Liam’s neck. 

            “Liam,” she asks tentatively, “Who’s this?”

            “This is Taj,” he says running his other hand through Taj’s hair and then he lifts up his and Zayn’s clasped hands, “and this is Zayn.”

            “I know who Zayn Malik is, darling. Hello, Taj,” she says, and it’s tentative but still warm still his mom. He feels tears prickle his eyes and he goes to rub them with the hand that is still connected to Zayn's. This gesture actually does wake Zayn. He comes out of slumber slowly at first like he’s trying to escape from quicksand, mumbling to himself, but his eyes land on Liam’s mother and he throws Liam’s hand, jumping out of his chair. 

            “Hello, Mrs. Payne, it’s wonderful to meet you,” Zayn croaks, blinking his eyes furiously. 

            “Hello, it’s lovely to meet you too. I love your work,” She pauses, tilts her head, and asks curiously, “Why were you and my son holding hands?” Liam knows that she knows the answer. What she’s doing is offering them a way out. If they’re not ready, she’ll be okay with that. She won’t force them out of the closet; she’ll leave this moment right here. 

            Zayn just shifts his eyes to his hands that he’s rubbing together in nervousness. Liam can see Zayn trying to formulate a response and he feels something click in his chest. He loves Zayn; Zayn who doesn’t want to hide but will tuck away their relationship to protect Liam. 

            “The same reason you hold hands with Dad,” Liam says definitively. Zayn snaps his head to stare at Liam; Liam sends him what he hopes is a reassuring look through his terror. Zayn’s eyes get soft and wet. Liam reaches his hand out again and Zayn's fingers weave with his.  

            “Okay,” she says softly, “So this is who’s going to take care of you?”

            “Yeah,” Liam confirms, and she’s nodding her head. Zayn squeezes his hand and he returns the gesture. 

            “Clearly, I was worried about nothing.” 

            Liam lets out a choked chortle and Zayn leans down to kiss Liam’s head. Taj unfurls himself and glances between the adults.

            “Are you going to be my new grandma?” Taj asks tentatively. 

            “Taj Yaser Malik,” Zayn hisses, but Liam’s mom just laughs. 

            “Maybe someday,” She says, Taj smiles, and Liam can’t look at Zayn’s reaction. 

            Liam’s mom only stays to get him settled in Zayn’s apartment. He asks her not to tell his dad and she says she’ll try, but she’s almost giddy that he’s dating Zayn and she may not be able to keep it a secret so she doesn’t promise.  

            Liam hasn’t lived with anyone since he was at West Point. He’s had single living quarters ever since then. He thought it might be difficult or annoying, but Zayn and Taj are really, very easy to live with. It’s almost as quiet as living by himself that’s the only thing that freaks him out. Zayn and Taj are happy to go about their lives at a library level volume. 

            Mrs. Hardy drops Taj off after school every day and Liam likes the company. He makes Taj a snack and then they do his homework together. Taj rarely getting above a whisper unless they’re playing a game then he’s ferocious. He gets to know Taj very well, like how his favorite color is neon green, he loves Disney/Pixar movies just like Liam, and he loves to ride on trains but not buses or planes. 

            When winter break gets closer, Taj gets more excited to go visit his mom’s family and Liam gets sadder. It’s not just playing nice with his boyfriend’s son; it’s starting to feel like they have their own parent-child relationship. Taj wants him to do bedtime as often as he wants Zayn to. 

            While his relationship with Taj has seemed to take numerous steps forward, his relationship with Zayn seems to be moving backwards or at the very least stagnate. 

* * *

            There’s a horrible, terrible part of Zayn that wishes this wasn’t working out as well as it is. He wishes that he could cut ties with Liam and never tell him about his indiscretions, on the account that him and Taj aren’t getting along. The thing is though that’s the opposite of what’s happening. Taj and Liam are getting so close that if Zayn were a weaker man he would be petulant that he’s being fazed out. He’s not querulous, he swears. 

            He knows that Liam is beginning to wonder why he’s so distant and it’s just that if they get intimate he’s going to have to explain why they can’t go that far. It’s almost been three months and he hasn’t gotten the results back from the tests he had taken nearly a week ago. He won’t subject Liam to that; he cares too much to risk him getting infected. After he’s put Taj to bed, he walks back into the living room where Liam is resting on the couch watching Sunday Night Football. When he gets close, Liam grabs his hand and tugs him toward the couch. 

            “Come on, Zayn,” Liam whispers. 

            Zayn feels a tug in his navel, but a pull the other way in his mind. He gives into the puppy-dog eyes and straddles Liam trying to avoid putting any of his weight on the injured leg. Zayn cradles Liam’s head and kisses him. Liam moans into the kiss and moves his hand to Zayn’s hips. Zayn has missed this, the intimate contact. Sexual contact is one thing, but this is devotion and the inklings of love are what separate interactions with Liam from everybody else. Zayn is so lost in the slide of their tongues and slipping his fingers through the hair at Liam’s nape that he doesn’t notice that Liam’s hands have slipped into his boxer-briefs until Liam is squeezing and his fingers are drifting towards Zayn’s cleft. Zayn hopes Liam doesn’t taste the bile that rises in the back of his throat. 

            “Liam, we can’t,” Zayn whispers into Liam’s mouth.

            “I know it will be annoying with my leg, but if you ride me, we should be fine, right?” He looks incredibly young and innocent all of a sudden and Zayn wants to shield Liam from what he has to say. 

            Zayn pulls away and leans back but makes sure there’s still no weight on Liam’s healing femur, “I got tested on Wednesday and I don’t want to risk anything until I get the results.”

            The confusion on Liam’s face makes Zayn hate himself that little bit more, “I cheated, Liam.”

            “No, you didn’t I told you to go out with other people. I just never thought you would.” 

            “That’s not fair, Liam.”

            “I know,” Liam says, and he kisses Zayn with remorse. Then he’s nudging Zayn off of him, “Tell me what happened.”

            “That’s not necessary.”

            “Yes, it is.” 

            And so Zayn explains excruciatingly about his recklessness. 

* * *

            At first, Liam is exceptionally sad and betrayed by the news, but then he finds himself angry. He knows he shouldn’t be; he knows he promised he wouldn’t be, but he is anyways. He brushes past Zayn at every turn. He can barely be civil and he doesn’t want to be. He sleeps on Taj’s trundle bed, even though it’s difficult for him to get on because it’s so low. It makes his leg ache, but he has his pride to think about and sleeping on the trundle bed is better than digging his face into Zayn’s shoulder blades and forgiving him while begging for forgiveness of his own. They skitter around each other and Liam is somewhat ashamed to admit that he mutters insults under his breath when he gets too close. It gets worse when Taj’s uncle picks him up to take him to Chicago for break until Zayn comes home from work on Wednesday, smiling. 

            “The test came back negative,” Zayn rushes.

            “You think that’s the only part that matters?”

            “No, but…” Zayn trails off after seeing the look on Liam’s face.

            “Maybe, now I can show you why having sex with other people was such a bad idea,” Liam hisses, and a shocked look mars Zayn’s face.

            “They’ll never be able to make you feel what I can,” Liam says shoving Zayn towards the bedroom. 

            Zayn snorts derisively, “They were both more experienced than you.”

            “Shut up,” Liam says, pushing Zayn against the hall’s wall. He bites at Zayn’s lip and palms Zayn through his pants. Zayn bucks into his hand, Liam snorts, nearly maliciously, and pulls away dragging him into the bedroom. He sits on the end of the bed, his broken leg straight out. He props himself with his good leg and drags Zayn towards him. He pushes up Zayn’s shirt and kisses him above his belly-button. 

            “Take it off,” Liam orders as he goes to work unbuttoning and pulling down Zayn’s pants and boxer-briefs.  

            “Budge up,” Zayn says, pushing Liam backwards. Liam drags himself backwards until his back is pressed against the headboard. Zayn stands above him, his dick right in Liam’s face. Liam licks teasingly up the throbbing vein and then engulfs him entirely with his mouth. Zayn nearly comes at that, but he wraps his fingers around the base to enjoy this a little bit longer. Liam lets Zayn fuck his mouth, but he also uses his teeth more than he’d ever thought about before. Zayn’s pained noises make Liam smirk. When Zayn isn’t moving like Liam wants, Liam grabs Zayn’s hips and guides him along. Liam gags a little and it makes both their dicks jump. Liam swallows around Zayn’s orgasm and Zayn nearly loses his footing. 

             When he’s satisfied that he’s sucked it all down, Liam pulls off, Zayn drops to lean against Liam, and Liam asks, “Was she as good?”

            “You know she wasn’t,” Zayn says pressing their foreheads together and kissing Liam, in the process tasting himself. 

            “Now, I’m going to fuck you better than that guy ever thought of,” Liam warns, “Flip over onto your knees.”

            “Don’t be an idiot,” Zayn whispers against Liam’s neck. 

            “I want to fuck you.”

            “And you can do that, sitting just like that.”

            “But it won’t be the same, you’ll be in control.”

            “I’m not letting you fuck up your leg because I let some Bear fuck me without satisfaction. That’s stupid Liam. You’ll always be better.”

            “That’s not what you said before.”

            “You never made me clarify; I just said they were more experienced, but Liam everything has always been better with you.”

            Zayn pushes Liam’s sweatpants and underwear down until his penis is out and then Liam is prepping him while he rolls a condom down Liam’s shaft. Zayn guides him in and Liam sees how it burns from Zayn’s facial expression. He kisses Zayn and the other man seats himself all the way down. He doesn’t move and Liam lets him adjust even though his hips are begging to buck up into the tightness. Zayn gives over most of the control to Liam and lets him guide their movements until they’re both just moving to be closer to each other and orgasm. Liam keens and Zayn grins. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You guys have been absolutely amazing with your long, detailed comments.  
> I'm also so grateful and surprised that this almost has 100 kudos! You all are the best!  
> Anyways, I hope you enjoyed... I feel like it's getting kind of bland but the next chapter will have a little more plot.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Liam and Zayn get to spend time as a couple.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Remember how I said there would be angst in this chapter. Well, I lied. I guess that will be the next chapter or maybe even the one after that. I just wanted some couple time, so ta-da couple time. Yay, I hope you guys like it. Thank you so much for all the feedback, over 100 kudos is amaze-balls!

            The weekend Taj is gone Harry and Louis invite them to spend a few days in their guest bedroom that is smaller than the loft Louis used to sleep in, but it has Louis’s old, luxurious mattress and Zayn and Liam aren’t all that picky. They go out to dinner at Harry’s restaurant, while he’s working, of course, and let him choose their courses. Then they make the obligatory trip to Louis’s show, which is now the eighth time Zayn has seen it since it’s debut. Louis drags them to some club that’s having a Christmas party and Zayn tries to keep up with the Tezon Mistletoes that Louis is drinking like Taj throws back Capri Suns. While Harry and Liam stick to the seasonal beer that tastes distinctly like gingerbread. 

            Zayn’s drunk enough that he likes the way that Liam tugs him in between his legs and presses his fingers into Zayn’s hips. Zayn knows that Liam desperately wants to dance, but is glued to the barstool because of his leg. Zayn spends most of his time figuring out ways to turn Liam on, which isn’t difficult at all given their close proximity, but Zayn was never aware of how effective skimming touches are on his boyfriend. Like how dragging his nail across the peak-a-boo of skin at his hip causes his dick to jump more than the down-right grope that the front of his pants receives. Even though Liam seems to be trying to keep some kind of decorum, Zayn is having no part of it. When he sloppily kisses Liam, his tongue glides against Liam’s and he pulls back abruptly. 

            “Did you eat the gingerbread man?”

            “Zayn?” Liam asks, his fingers playing with the hem of Zayn’s sweater as Zayn struggles to focus on Liam’s face. 

            “You taste like the gingerbread man.”

            “I drank a beer that tastes like gingerbread.” 

            “Right, did you know I like gingerbread?”

            “Did you know you’re drunk?”

            “Am not.”

            “Are too.”

            “Shut up, you don’t know anything,” Zayn pouts, “I liked it better when you were quiet and we were kissing.” 

            “Me too,” Liam says affectionately, kissing Zayn’s nose. 

            “Not exactly what I was going for,” Zayn hisses. 

            Zayn drags Liam off the barstool that’s too out in the open. Zayn maneuvers them so Liam’s back is pressed against a wall in a dimly lit corner. Zayn is careful not to put pressure on the full-leg brace or knock the crutch tucked under his arm and then presses flush against the rest of Liam. He mouths at Liam’s neck and Zayn knows there’ll be a mark there tomorrow. He would never admit to how much that thrills him. He won’t say that he constantly wants to leave little possessive symbols all over Liam’s body. His dick presses painfully against his zipper and he presses his pelvis against Liam. He can see the inner dialogue play out on Liam’s features. On the one hand, he knows this is turning Liam on, if his hard dick and breathy moans are to be trusted, but he also knows that Liam isn’t really an exhibitionist. He thrusts harder this time and he can see Liam’s reserves crumbling and a hint of pain. Zayn reminds himself not to put weight on Liam’s healing leg. 

            Zayn thinks Liam’s close, his eyes are closed, head tilted back so the top of his head is pressed against the brick, and soft, needy noises emit from his mouth, when there’s a hand pulling him away. Louis smirks at him and sing-songs, “Now, now, now, let’s not make wittle Liam come in his pants in the middle of the club, Mr. Exhibitionist.” Zayn growls at Louis and Liam sags in relief, adjusting himself so his hardness isn’t as obvious.  Zayn sometimes wonders why he’s friends with Louis. He is the biggest cockblock in the world. He’s pretty sure that Louis’s main goal in life is to give everyone around him blue balls, but if he decided that his goal was to give Louis blue balls, Louis would kill him. Louis would murder him in the most creative and gruesome way possible. He can’t comprehend the injustice of this moment; here is the true Mr. Exhibitionist fucking with him.  

            “Fuck you.”

            “That’s Harry’s job.” 

            “Come on, gentlemen, no fighting,” Harry warns, running a hand through his hair as he throws his other arm around Louis’s shoulders, forcing Louis’s stance to relax.  

* * *

            They’ve decided to walk the two short blocks back to Louis and Harry’s place. Liam is trying to avoid the icy patches, Zayn has done enough damage to his leg tonight and there can’t be more. He’s also trying to make sure that Zayn doesn’t fall into a snow bank with his drunken stumbling. 

            “Abstentious,” Zayn says suddenly, “given to or marked by restraint in the satisfaction of one's appetites.”

            “What are you doing?” Liam asks curiously, a smile creeping onto his face despite the cold air that nips at his cheeks and the pain that thrums through his veins.

            “Proving that I’m not drunk,” Zayn reports matter-of-factly, “A-B-S-T-E-N-T-I-O-U-S. Abstentious. People who are abstentious are usually pretentious and boring.”  

            “Okay,” Liam says. 

            “Diffident, shy, quiet, or modest. D-I-F-F-I-D-E-N-T. Diffident. My son inherited his diffident behavior from me; his mother was quite gregarious.”

            “What is he doing?” Louis demands. 

            “Proving he’s not drunk.”

            “By spelling?”

            “Yep.”

            Louis laughs, “Spell supercalifragilisticexpialidocious.”

            Zayn huffs, “That’s an easy one. Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious, extraordinarily good; wonderful. S-U-P-E-R-C-A-L-F-R-A-G-I-L-I-S-T-I-C-E-X-P-I-A-L-D-O-C-I-O-U-S. Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious. It is supercalifragilisticexpialidocious to be with you all tonight.”

            Liam and Harry look at Zayn like he’s sprouted four heads and started chanting to Satan in Latin, while Louis just laughs hysterically, “It’s a party trick. I don’t know why that’s always the word people are impressed with or make someone spell, but he started doing this in college and it’s fucking hilarious to watch people hear him do it for the first time. He won some spelling bee when he was a kid and people always said but I bet you can’t spell supercalifragilisticexpialidocious so he memorized it and now I make him spell it whenever he’s drunk. Best drunk party trick we have up our sleeve; it has won us a lot of bets.”

            As they walk into the lobby, Liam hears the soft tone of Zayn’s voice and asks, “Are you still spelling?”

            “Maybe,” Zayn says sulkily, “I’m not drunk.”

            Liam chuckles and kisses Zayn’s forehead when he leans against Liam’s shoulder as they wait for the elevator. He slides an arm around Zayn’s waist and Zayn makes a contented noise, placing a hand on Liam’s stomach. They stumble into the elevator when it arrives and Liam is a little worried he’s going to see more of Harry then he wants to when Louis’s hand slides into Harry’s trench coat and Harry lets out a choked whimper. Louis drags Harry down the hallway quicker than Liam can keep up with his poor leg and Zayn who is getting more and more listless. 

            Louis taps his foot impatiently as Liam tries his best to get himself and Zayn down the hallway. The second he drags them across the threshold Louis slams and locks the door. Louis grabs Harry’s hand and drags him towards the master bedroom. Harry calls out, “Good night.” Liam waves back and heads towards the little room they’re sleeping in. Zayn falls onto the bed and wiggles out of his pants and the sweater he’s wearing, so that he only has on his boxer-briefs. It’s harder for Liam, but he manages after a few aching minutes to divest most of his clothing.

            “I wanna blow you,” Zayn murmurs when Liam tries to arrange himself on the bed in a position he could sleep in.

            “You don’t have to,” Liam responds, even though his dick is still obnoxiously hard from the club. 

            “But I want to,” Liam can’t disagree with that, so he watches as Zayn crawls down the bed. Zayn tugs down Liam’s underwear and licks a stripe up the vein and blows air on the wet line. Liam leans his head back against the headboard and relaxes into the mattress. Zayn sucks a bruise into his good thigh and then kisses Liam’s thigh gently. The contrast of pain and tenderness makes pre-come leak onto Liam’s navel. Zayn stops licking and kissing and at first Liam thinks he’s teasing him, but there’s still a heavy weight on his thigh. He looks down and Zayn’s eyes are closed. He groans and chuckles. He gently pushes Zayn’s shoulder so he’s lying on his back. 

            “Zayn,” he calls, shaking Zayn’s shoulder, “Come on, I can’t pull you up the bed on my own,” he says amusedly but it’s pushing into exasperation. Zayn moans but budges a little and Liam hooks his hands under his arms and pulls. Zayn makes an uncomfortable noise, but moves with Liam’s tugs.  As Liam arranges them on the bed so that Zayn is pressed against Liam’s side, Zayn groggily mumbles into Liam’s collarbone, “Love you.”

            “I think I love you too,” Liam responds with his heart pounding in his chest. He’s nervous about these words, not that Zayn is going to remember them at all but it’s still the first time either has uttered them. Even if it doesn’t count, maybe it’s practice for when they're both sober. 

            Liam wakes up early like he usually does on the weekends. On the weekends, he has Taj morning duty. He turns on the big-screen TV and flips naturally to the Sunday morning cartoons he usually watches with Taj. It’s nearly an hour before anybody else wakes up and it’s Harry wrapped in a duvet; he drinks a cup of coffee and then he goes into the kitchen and starts making breakfast, leaving the blanket. Liam offers to help and Harry smiles blearily-eyed at him shaking his head no. As usual, the smell of food draws Zayn out of the bedroom. 

            “I’m not sure if I’m going to be able to eat,” Zayn announces, sitting gently next to Liam and burying his face into Liam’s neck. Liam snorts and rubs Zayn’s back cautiously. 

            “You know you don’t have to watch cartoons when Taj isn’t here, right?” Zayn asks into Liam’s neck.

            “I’ve just been using Taj as an excuse.”

            Zayn snorts, and Liam adds, “I miss him.”

            He can feel Zayn’s smile in his neck and he hopes Zayn knows how sincere that statement was, “Me too.”

            “How many more days?”

            “Only four.”

            “Four is so many,” Liam whines. 

            “We’ll Skype with him tonight.” 

            “Fine,” Liam replies and Zayn snickers.  

            “Stop making me laugh; it hurts.”

            They eat breakfast; Liam digs right into the biscuits and gravy, while Zayn can only munch slowly on a biscuit. Louis and Harry have to leave earlier than yesterday and Zayn and Liam spend the rest of the day running errands around the city and looking at the Christmas lights. They go to the art gallery and Liam is amazed by the beautiful display of Zayn’s work. Paul lets him know what’s been sold and what he’d like to see by Zayn’s next deadline. 

            “When do you usually paint?” Liam asks curiously. He’s never seen Zayn paint. 

            “Sometimes, when you and Taj are asleep, I’ll stay up and paint. I used to paint in the studio in the back at the gallery every Sunday while Taj hung out with Waliyha, but I haven’t done that in a while.”

            “Why not?”

            “Because I haven’t,” Zayn shrugs.

            “You don’t have to stop painting for me.”

            “I’m not; I just don’t usually want to leave home anymore and Waliyha has been busy with finals and her new boyfriend.”

            “Well, I could watch Taj from now on so you can paint. We could make a day out of it.”

            “That would be nice.”

            Liam nods and Zayn smiles like Liam just offered him the world. His breath hitches when he realizes that he’s going to have to go back to work soon that he can’t stay in this domestic bliss forever and that Zayn won’t always smile at him like that.

            They go back to Louis and Harry’s in the afternoon and Skype Taj, before ordering take-out from the place Harry recommended and watching movies on Louis’s ostentatious TV.  Liam loves how Zayn gets so cuddly when he’s hungover and relaxed. They kiss but without expectations, just random intimate moments. They go to bed before either Louis or Harry comes back from work and they have sex like they have as long as they want. 

            The next morning, Zayn makes French toast for breakfast in thanks to Louis and Harry for letting them stay. They then help them set up for the Christmas party they’re having later that night. 

            Liam gets ready last because it will take him the longest just to shower and he doesn’t want anyone to be waiting for him to finish with the bathroom because he can’t navigate around anything. When he goes back into the bedroom where they’ve been staying, Zayn is wearing the extra flannel shirt Liam brought, which doesn't compensate for the socks he forgot. Liam immediately has the urge to throw Zayn on the bed and smack his hips against Zayn’s ass. 

            “Holy fuck,” Liam growls. Zayn raises his eyebrows and winks at Liam. Liam smacks Zayn’s ass as he walks past. Zayn turns around surprised and Liam tries to wink, which makes Zayn guffaw. 

            “Thanks for packing an extra shirt.”

            “Anything for you, babe.”

            People start arriving and Zayn and Liam get pulled in opposite directions. Harry demands Zayn help him set out more appetizers and Louis drags Liam to the bar. 

            “Your boyfriend has horrible taste in alcohol, and I figure you’re military you’re probably good at following directions. So I am going to teach you how to make my signature drinks for tonight and you’re going to help get them out. Got it.” 

            Liam nods and listens closely as Louis teaches him how to make the “Santa Baby” and the “Grinch”. They are their respective colors and relatively easy if it wasn’t for the convoluted way that Louis wants him to make it. But Liam guesses that’s because Louis is being Louis and has to make the directions as convoluted as possible. Liam hands out about fifteen of each drink before Louis dismisses him to go find Zayn. 

            He finds Zayn in deep conversation with a man wearing a sports jacket and a Rolex. The man is looking at Zayn hungrily and Liam feels stomach acid rise into his mouth. Liam knows it’s posturing, but Zayn is his and he unbuttons his shirt so the mark Zayn sucked into his throat the other night is obvious. He leans the crutch against the wall that leads to the bedroom. It’s tucked away enough that no one will trip over it, and it won’t be in the line of vision of this douche. He limps over to Zayn and has to press his lips together to keep from yelping in pain. He puts his arm around Zayn’s shoulders and kisses his cheek. 

            “Hey babe,” Liam says. 

            “Hi,” Zayn says, amusement playing with his features. He turns to the man he was talking to and makes introductions, “This is Liam. Liam, this is Ron, he’s a friend of Louis’s.” 

            “Hello,” the man says, stiffly. 

            “Hello,” Liam smirks.

            Zayn continues his conversation and Liam feels slightly ignored and insecure. They’re talking about an art movement Liam doesn’t know or understand well and he’s losing any assuredness he had about their relationship, which he recognizes is dumb. He runs his hand up and down Zayn’s back and Zayn keeps glancing at him with a questioning look. Liam’s about to lean over and kiss Zayn again when Zayn ends the conversation. 

            “It was nice talking to you, but I’m famished. We need to go find some food,” he apologizes to Ron and then he’s dragging Liam away. Liam can barely keep up without his crutch and agonizing jolts shoot through his leg and around his body. Zayn drags him to a rather secluded nook where Louis and Harry keep their awards and books. 

            “What the hell?” Zayn asks.

            “What?”

            “You don’t usually go caveman on me.”   

            “I wasn’t…” Liam trails off when Zayn gives him a skeptical look, “He was looking like he was going to push you to your knees and make you suck him off,” Liam hisses, and Zayn shakes his head in irritation, “Plus, it was clear he had money.”

            “What does that have to do with anything?”

            “He could provide better for you and Taj then I could ever think of,” Liam says looking down at his feet. He looks up quickly when Zayn hits him hard. 

            “I’m not some damsel in distress, you fuck. Plus, the minute he heard about Taj he would go running for the hills.”

            “That’s not true, Taj is great.”

            “God, you’re so fucking adorable,” Zayn says, kissing him fiercely, when he pulls away out of breath he adds, “I hate to admit that I almost popped a boner from your jealousy.”

            “Fuck,” Liam whines and leans into kiss him more. He forgets about his leg and goes to push Zayn against the wall of the nook. Liam has to pull away because the pain is too much; he doubles over and sucks in deep breaths. 

            “You stupid, jealous moron,” Zayn says moving him carefully into the wing-backed chair wedged next to the bookshelf and leaves. He comes back with a bottle of water and Liam’s crutch. 

            “You know what I said Saturday night when we were falling asleep, I meant it.” 

            “I thought you hadn’t remembered.”

            “No, I remember and I meant it, Liam, I think I’m falling in love with you. So you don’t have to worry about some self-centered, posh, old guy, I don’t want anyone else.”

            “Me too.”

            “Come on, I just laid it out there in front of you. The least you could do is say it too.”

            “I have no doubt I’m falling in love with you.” 

            “Had to show me up didn’t you,” Zayn huffs and Liam smiles at him, pulling him down for a kiss. Zayn pulls away and reprimands, “Now, keep your crutch with you and use it. You don’t want to make your leg worse.” 

            “Okay,” Liam agrees and follows him back to the party. 

* * *

            The next day is Christmas Eve, and they go back to Zayn’s apartment. They Skype with Taj again who seems both happy and sad to be in Chicago. They promise him their own Christmas celebration when he comes home. He seems mollified by this promise and has to say good-bye to go reenact The Nutcracker with his cousins. Zayn knows it’s not just Perrie’s brother there, but her best friends, Jade, Jesy, and Leigh-Anne have brought their youngsters to see Taj. He knows he should probably see them, but he would feel guilty and nostalgic anytime they would bring up Perrie. And everyone always feels it necessary to bring Perrie up when he’s around. They’re better when it’s just Taj. He doesn’t want to have to experience it when he wants to be happy. While he knows Taj is disappointed that Zayn and Liam aren’t there, he doesn’t think it would’ve worked out if he had gone. Instead of feeling guilty for moving on and sleeping on the lumpy couch in the Edwards’ living room, he falls asleep feeling loved and comfortable, watching It’s a Wonderful Life tucked into Liam’s side under a blanket.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zayn and Liam have a run-in while picking Taj up from the airport.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You all are amazing little balls of sunshine!  
> Thank you for reading!

            Zayn’s mom has always insisted on celebrating Christmas as merely a time for family to be together. It’s never been associated with church or Jesus but with food and love and gifts. She has the tendency to celebrate holidays because they bring families closer together, rather than for their religious purposes. This year Zayn, more than ever, understands that notion, which is weird because his closest family member is eight hundred miles away. Celebrating Christmas with Liam is one of the most exhilarating and perplexing things Zayn has ever experienced. He’s more exuberant than Taj usually is, he talks a mile a minute, and his hands go all over the place. Zayn can feel the fondness and second-hand embarrassment bloom in his chest because really no adult should be that excited ever, unless they’ve won a million dollars or something. Yet, it’s still entertaining, and it’s Liam so it’s quite adorable.

            Liam wakes Zayn up with breakfast in bed on Christmas morning and it’s gingerbread-men-shaped pancakes with hints of molasses, ginger, cloves, and cinnamon. He tries to keep Liam in bed with sticky kisses and promises of blowjobs, but Liam drags him out of bed to open presents. There’s not much to open under the tree since they’ve promised most of it for when Taj gets home, but they exchange gifts with each other. Zayn wasn’t sure what to buy Liam especially when Liam was tight-lipped about anything he wanted, so Zayn bought him a set of vintage Batman comics and a Batman T-shirt. Liam stares at his gifts in awe and gives Zayn reverent kisses, which makes Zayn feel inexplicably bashful. He’s not sure what he’s expecting to receive from Liam, but it’s not what he gets. He opens up a case of his favorite paints and a plethora of new brushes. Liam looks up at him hesitantly and explains that he called Paul to find out his favorite brand. He convinces Liam that now would be a good time for that Christmas blowjob, right there on the couch amidst the torn wrapping paper. 

            Zayn brings Liam to his parents’ house and he’s so goddamn polite and happy; Zayn thinks his mom truly contemplates trading him for Liam. Liam’s quite happy to lean against the sink peeling potato after potato even though the leaning because of his leg leaves a wet spot where his pants meet his shirt. 

            His dad presses his lips together and creases his forehead, and Zayn knows that he’s not completely comfortable with Zayn’s sexuality. He doesn’t think his dad’s homophobic; he thinks it would’ve been fine if he’d just been gay. But since he’d been with Perrie and had Taj, his dad seems to think that it’s wrong or weird that he’s with a guy now. He thinks Taj should have a mom. Zayn knows he’ll get over it eventually. His dad has always supported everything Zayn has chosen to do even if he would’ve much rather Zayn took another approach. He would’ve wanted Zayn to have taken up football or basketball or baseball instead of painting in high school and have stayed in New York instead of uprooting his little family to move to Chicago to get his Master’s and be closer to his son’s other set of grandparents. Things he would’ve wanted for Zayn, though, he doesn’t hold Zayn to, and Zayn hopes this preconceived notion of what a family is can be put away too. He shouldn’t have worried that much because it only takes a few words from Liam about the Giants’ season to win his dad over.  Liam wonders aloud if they can defend their Superbowl championship, and his dad is grinning and rambling on about why Eli Manning and the Giants might still have a chance. It may not be full acceptance but it’s getting there.

            Safaa loves Liam on sight because he’s handsome and has a present tucked under his arm for her. Waliyha already hero-worships him, which confuses Zayn because she’s strictly anti-military; maybe, it’s his relationship with Taj that’s won her over. His younger sisters and Liam chat, and Zayn has no chance of sitting next to Liam through dinner. He sits with, his three-year-old nephew, Elijah’s arm bumping his, and Doniya’s intense gaze upon him. She’s barely been civil and it’s received a few scornful looks from their mom and a hissed reminder about guests. He helps Doniya, her husband, Travis, and Liam clear the table, but quickly Doniya shoos Travis and Liam to the living room to play with Elijah and Aaliyah, Doniya’s seventeen-month-old daughter. 

            “So that’s why you went out of your mind for months? That’s what was worth terrifying mom and dad and me and Waliyha, and must I go on?”

            “You know he’s a person right. You can’t refer to him as a what, Doni,” Zayn grits as he rinses a dish and adds it to the dishwasher.  

            “Answer me, Zayn,” Doniya demands.

            “If you must know, yes, he’s worth it.”

            “He better be good to you two.”

            “Better than I am to him.” That comment makes Doniya’s face go soft and she places a hand on his forearm freezing his motions.

            “O baby brother,” she says squeezing his arm and smiling sadly, “You’re a catch you know that right?”

            “You have to say that; you’re my sister,” he jokes, a self-deprecating smile pulling at the corners of his mouth. 

            “ZeeZee,” she whispers, a name she hasn't called him in years and not with the loving cadence in over a decade, and pulls him into a side hug. For her petite frame, she sure does make his ribs creak. 

            “I’m okay, DeeDee,” he reassures. 

            There’s no more talking just messages exchanged through intricate facial expressions. They come out arms slung around each other. Their mom raises an eyebrow and they both shrug off her incredulous look. They exchange gifts and Zayn thinks the little gifts Liam purchased for each member of his family are so personal and perfect and so much better than his own, even though he bought exactly what they asked for. 

            After all the wrapping paper is stuffed into trash bags, Safaa insists they watch the stop-motion classics, _Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer_ , _Santa Clause is Comin’ to Town_ , and _Frosty the Snowman_. Zayn squeezes himself into a spot between Liam and Waliyha, who gives him a dirty look because she’s clearly cold and Liam is a human furnace. He smirks at her and tucks himself into Liam’s side. Liam kisses his forehead and wraps an arm around Zayn’s shoulders.

            “How did you know what to buy everyone?”

            “You talk about them a lot.”

            “You listen to all of that.”

            “I mean usually,” Liam jokes. 

            Zayn is a little in awe, but he tries to not let it show. As usual, he falls asleep through the movie and he only wakes up when Liam shifts to go to the bathroom. They leave shortly after that and Liam insists on driving. Liam drives exactly like Zayn expects him to methodically and safely. He usually can’t fall asleep when other people have his life in their hands, but he drifts off with his head pressed against the cold glass. 

            The next day, they go to pick up Taj at the airport. They’re waiting for Taj and his uncle, Jonnie, but the flight is slightly delayed.  Winter weather is shit, Zayn thinks hostilely as he yearns to see the little smiling face. Therefore, Zayn needs caffeine, so he goes to the airport’s Starbucks and gets himself the darkest, blackest coffee they have. He gets Liam a caramel macchiato because he knows Liam really likes them but refuses to order them for himself. 

            The line is a fucking joke, it’s so long but the baristas are whipping orders out faster than Zayn thinks people should legally be allowed to move so he’s not too concerned. Of course, it still takes longer than expected and the cashier looks relieved when he asks for a black coffee-of-the-day and a caramel macchiato. She looks expectant like he’s going to amend the easy order, but when he doesn’t she smiles at him like he offered her a diamond as a tip instead of the dollar he drops into the cup. 

            He sips on his coffee as he ambles back to where Liam is standing; they’re still selling the Christmas blend and it tastes like what Zayn imagines a Christmas tree would taste like if it were pureed and turned into a beverage. He never imagined that would be something he would want to taste, but oddly, he enjoys it. He stops when he sees Liam’s uncomfortable stance and the man he’s talking to. He approaches quickly to save too sweet Liam from the awkward conversation, but then slows when he realizes Liam’s stance isn’t awkward it’s military. He can feel his muscles tense and his pulse kick up a notch, which is why he doesn’t notice the five-year-old cannonball that barrels toward Liam. 

* * *

            “Payne is that you?” A deep southern drawl asks. 

            The reaction is Pavlovian: his heartbeat skyrockets, hands go behind his back, and feet widen; he turns quickly on his heels to face his future commanding officer. The man who will dictate where his career goes after desk duty. 

            “Colonel Adkins,” Liam says stiffly. His hand itching to salute, but he won’t. He knows he’ll be laughed at, that it’s not necessary, but he has to keep reminding his muscles that. 

            “Relax,” Adkins says pleasantly with a smile on his face. Liam tries to turn up his lips into something other than a grimace but he can tell he’s not really succeeding by the perturbed look on the older man’s face. It’s not that Adkins isn’t nice. Adkins is one of the most congenial men on the base, but he’s also a “good ol’ boy”. He’s very stuck in his traditional values. 

            Liam prays Zayn can read the situation and stays away; he doesn’t, however, consider the younger Malik. The one that’s squeezing his healthy leg for dear life just as he goes to ask Adkins how his day is going. Liam looks down on Taj whose full wattage smile is hard to resist responding to. He grins as best he can but it’s not his best, and Taj’s smile turns iffy. Adkins looks confused and then Taj is being dragged off his leg by a determined Zayn. Adkins’s eyebrows knit further together and it goes from confused to disturbed, and Liam wants very much to disappear into the crowd to never be seen again. 

            “Thanks for coming to pick us up,” Zayn is saying, “Glad, I chose you to be his godfather.”

            Taj looks up at Zayn confusedly and moves to say something, but Zayn places his hand on Taj’s head and he freezes. Liam smiles stiffly and nods. Adkins’s face crinkles a little bit, but he seems to accept this situation.

            “Well, Payne, I need to be getting to the family,” Adkins says, “I look forward to seeing you in the new year.”

            “Yes sir, I look forward to it too,” Liam replies. 

            When Adkins walks away, Liam and Zayn’s shoulders sag in unison. Taj looks at them both bewilderedly and his original enthusiasm is marred. He presses himself against Zayn’s side, turning his face into Zayn and away from Liam. Liam feels a physical ache and he wants to swing Taj up into his arms, kiss his forehead, and tell him how damn important he is. He probably could do that and not bring any attention to them, but the anxious pull in his chest and his throbbing leg keep him from doing it. He does ruffle Taj’s hair, and it earns him a tentative grin.  

            They go back to Zayn’s apartment and Taj is so excited when he sees the stack of presents around the tiny fake tree. They open presents and Liam loves watching Taj zip through the stack while Zayn rests his hand on Liam’s thigh. Taj thanks them for the presents and crawls into each of their laps to give them a snuggle. Zayn opens the present that was sent in Taj’s bag and his face drops a little but he doesn’t explain and Liam doesn’t want to pry. Taj falls asleep on the couch while they watch _Elf_ , his head in Zayn’s lap and his feet in Liam’s. Zayn, of course, falls asleep too with his head on Liam’s shoulder. 

            Liam doesn’t want to give this up, but he knows he needs to preserve his career. So tomorrow, he’ll go back to his apartment on base and only visit Zayn and Taj. He can’t get so reckless, not like today; Adkins could have easily figured out what was going on. In fact, if he had been there twenty minutes earlier, he would’ve caught Liam with his hand in Zayn’s pocket. That terrifies him; he’s not reckless by nature. He needs to stop; he needs to extract himself from the situation. Pull away and add that distance and caution back into their relationship. 

            The movie ends and he picks Taj up who mumbles into his chest and falls back asleep. Liam tucks Taj into bed with a kiss to the forehead and fingers run through Taj’s thick hair. Zayn has awoken a little bit, but he’s still very pliant and bleary-eyed. Contentment pulls Zayn’s mouth up and Liam tries to return it. They head to the master bedroom and Zayn undresses languidly. Zayn helps Liam and kisses in-between his shoulder blades. Liam is more hesitant and Zayn looks at him, concern mutilating his angelic expression. 

            “I think I’m going to go back to my place tomorrow,” Liam says falteringly.

            “What? Why?” Zayn says, now urgent. 

            “I just think I’m getting too comfortable here and eventually, I’m going to have to go back to base.”

            “You don’t have to go back.”

            “Zayn, not this again.”

            “It’s true, though, that you don’t have to go back.”

            “I have to go back; I have a job to do.”

            “Then you should just leave now; why wait?”

            “Zayn, I know you’re angry.”

            “I’m not angry; it’s just if you’re going to leave, you might as well get on with it.”

            “Tomorrow is just as good as any.” 

            “Leave,” Zayn shouts suddenly, “Just fucking leave.”

            “Come on, Zayn, you knew this would happen.”

            “You promised two months, I don’t want someone around who is too much of a coward to keep a promise. So get the fuck out.”

            Liam doesn’t say anything else; he just grabs the most essential things he needs and shoves them haphazardly into his duffel. He grabs his wallet and keys off the table by the front door and puts on his peacoat. 

            “Give me the key,” Zayn demands. 

            Liam feels bile rise in his throat and clenches the keys closer to his chest instinctively. Zayn’s face is angry, his lips pressed together, and his hand held out stiffly. Liam’s hands shake as he tries to remove the key from the ring. His fingernails aren’t long enough and he can’t open the ring to slide the key around it. Zayn’s foot is beginning to tap obnoxiously. He finally gets the key around the ring. He places it in Zayn’s outstretched hand and presses Zayn’s fingers over it. For a second, he sees Zayn’s features crack, but he fills them quickly with liquid anger. 

            It’s a long fucking trip back to his apartment and when he gets there, he’s absolutely regretting saying anything. His apartment is stale; he’s barely spent five hours there since he came back. It doesn’t have the warm smell of lived in places. It doesn’t have the gentle scent of Zayn’s cologne and the citrus shampoo everyone in the apartment uses. He opens the windows even though it’s below freezing and lets in the fresh air.

            He wallows in his sweats, his comforter wrapped around his shoulders watching every Batman DVD he owns on repeat with stacks of takeaway cartons. He doesn’t go out on New Year’s Eve because the only people in the city that he wants to be with don't want him, and instead rings in the New Year watching the ball drop on TV while he eats an entire frozen pizza and drinks an entire bottle of champagne. 

            On the second, his phone rings. “The Tommo,” flashes across the screen, Louis’s doing not his. His hands shake a little; the only time Louis has called him was when Zayn’s phone died when they were out. He’s expecting to get reamed. 

            “Hello?” He answers hesitantly. 

            “Liam,” and it’s not the voice he expected at all. It’s higher pitched and he’s missed it so much. 

            “Yeah, bud, it’s me. How are you?”

            “I miss you,” Taj's voice cracks a little. 

            “O, buddy, I miss you so much.”

            “Why did you leave?”

            “It has nothing to do with you. Your dad and I had a disagreement.”

            “But he misses you too.” 

            “And I miss him.”

            “Then come home.”

            Liam feels the tears well in his eyes and it really is home. This place is no longer his home. The boxy two-bedroom apartment in Queens is his home. 

            “It’s not that easy.”

            Taj really starts crying then. Full sobs that get further away as he puts the phone down and it’s picked up by another person, presumably Louis. 

            “I was expecting you to cheer him up,” Louis booms harshly. 

            “I’m sorry.”

            “Goddamn, you two are fucking idiots.”

            “Watch your language,” Liam snaps and it makes Louis laugh. 

            “You sound like Zayn,” Louis says and Liam sucks in a breath. 

            “He wants to see you, we only have a few more hours until Zayn is done at the studio. Want to meet us in Chinatown for lunch?”

            He hasn’t showered in three days, he looks like absolute shit, and he knows it, but, nonetheless, he says, “Absolutely.”

            It takes him nearly an hour and he hates wasting this time. He bounces his good leg the entire trip and it irritates the snot out of anyone who sits next to him. He gets to the restaurant and Louis and Taj are waiting outside. Taj runs full force at him and he doesn’t care that his leg twinges when Taj plows into him. He swings Taj up into his arms. Taj presses his face into Liam’s neck and he kisses the boy’s hair. He can feel his neck getting wet and he rubs the shaking back. Louis looks on judgmentally, but every second that goes by Liam can see him soften. 

            They have a wonderful meal and Taj tells him all about what he’s been doing for the last week. Louis promises to set up meetings and let them hangout. Taj seems so relieved and Liam feels horrible. He wants to just go home with him and see Zayn, and he wants to stay there forever. He wants to see them everyday, wants Taj to be his son as much as he is Zayn’s. Now, that aspiration seems so far away. 

            Two days later, there’s a knock on his door and he’s not sure who to expect. This time, it’s Harry. His hands shoved into his wool trench coat’s pockets. He’s scuffing his boots and grimaces a little when Liam opens the door. 

            “I’ve been sent to check on you.”

            “I’m alright.”

            “Are you? I sure wouldn’t be.”

            “You know I’m just saying that.”

            “I do.”

            “Harry what’s really going on?”

            “Why won’t you just go back?”

            “It’s not that easy.”

            “Yeah, it is; I think he would take you right back.”

            “He wants me to choose between him and my career; I can’t do that.”

            “Why not?”

            “Would you?”

            “What?”

            “If you had to choose between being a chef and Louis, what would you choose?”

            “Louis one-hundred and ten percent.”

            “Fuck you, Harry.”

            “It’s true, but I would be a little mad if he had asked me to choose,” Harry admits, and Liam really has to think. While Harry would choose Louis, that’s also because Harry could do something else. Liam can’t do that. 

            “Harry, I’m not good at anything else.”

            “Bullshit, you’re one of the most resourceful people I know; you would figure something else. But the thing is, he’s not even asking you to choose yet. He’s just asking you to be less scared. He wants to know you love him more than the job.”

            Harry stays for a little bit longer, but he seems to have spoken his piece and leaves to go to work. 

            On the twentieth, he has the same nervousness as he always does on his first day. The desk job is going to be extremely boring, but everyone seems easy to work with. It won’t be as bad as he thought. It’ll at least take his mind off Zayn and Taj. 

            His phone rings when he’s sitting typing up some paperwork. It’s Zayn's number and he’s confused by why he’s calling now. He wonders if this is some kind of test, and he determinedly decides he’s not going to answer. He lets it go to voicemail, and it only takes five minutes before his phone starts exploding with notifications. He gets missed calls from Zayn, Harry, Louis, and Waliyha, and cryptic texts from them too and one from Doniya. They all just read, “Pick up your phone.” 

            So when it says, “Zayn calling,” again across the screen, he picks up. Zayn's breathing is wrecked and Liam is positive he’s been crying without even hearing any words. 

            “Hello?”

            “Get your ass to New York Hospital Queens,” Zayn orders; his voice unhinged. 

            “Why? What happened, Zayn? It’s my first day; I can’t just leave for no reason,” Liam reminds. Zayn cackles on the other side of the line and it’s more terrifying than any noise Liam has ever heard. 

            “Fuck you,” Zayn snaps and then the connection goes dead.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cliff-hanger, I know, but you can't kill me it's my birthday! :-)


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Liam rushes to the hospital.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So your response to the last chapter was so amazing that it encouraged me to post this next chapter. There will still be a new chapter on Saturday, but I thought I would get rid of the cliff hanger. I won't promise this will happen every time I have a cliff hanger, but here we go.

            The pillow smacks him squarely in the face, and he just blinks. If he ignores Louis, maybe he’ll stop and just go away. Go back to his stupid, little love-nest with his stupid curly boyfriend and leave him to revel in self-pity and consuming hatred while he eats chicken nuggets and watches _Iron Man_. 

            “This is the fourth time I’ve watched this movie with you this week,” Louis whines. 

            “Fucking leave,” he growls.

            “That’s what you said to him, too, huh?” Louis prods, and Zayn wonders if he’s bored and looking for a fight. 

            “I swear, Lou, you need to get the fuck out of here.”

            “Stop being a prick.”

            “He could call.”

            “You kicked him out and demanded back your key because he was going back to his apartment. Tell me where that told him if he called, you would answer.”

            “When the fuck did you decide to be on his side?”

            “I’m on your side, Zayn; I’m always on your and Taj’s side. You know that.”

            “Then why are you excusing his behavior?”

            “I’m not; he’s a little bitch-ass coward, but he loves you and Taj.”

            “How do you know that?”

            “Taj and I hung out with him while you were at the studio. I’m far more cynical than you and I could see it. He held Taj like Taj was his son. I…you…Taj can’t lose him, Zee.”

            Zayn walks out of the room straightaway because while he’s worried his fist might become more acquainted with Louis’s face, he’s also worried he’s going to breakdown in tears. He promised himself he wouldn’t be sad this time that he would hold onto the anger and let that fester. He wasn’t going to cry and worry Taj. He was going to be angry. Anger has always been easier for him to control and hide than sadness. He stands in the kitchen staring at the contents of his fridge until Louis approaches him like he’s stalking a dangerous animal. 

            “You’re not going to hit me, right? Because I need this face for performances. And Harry kind of likes this face and he’s been doing some boxing recently. I’d prefer if my boyfriend and best friend didn’t get into it, especially since you would probably lose and that would be awkward all around,” Louis rambles.

            “Shut up, Lou,” Zayn says quietly. Louis nods and Zayn can’t look at him. 

            “You know that’s your tell, right?”

            “Huh?”

            “Your soulful little eyes have always been incredible about making eye contact, at least with me, except when you know you’ve fucked up.”

            “Of course, I know I’ve fucked up. I just can’t play second fiddle to some archaic, inane system that controls him. He’ll chose the military and we don’t know how long this stupid law is going to be in place. I want to get married, Lou, have a proper family. I can’t do that if we’re constantly hiding.”

            “Okay,” Louis accepts as he pulls Zayn in for a hug. Zayn relaxes into Louis and maybe Louis’s shirt is damper when he pulls away.

            Again, Zayn has to convince Waliyha to come babysit Taj for the rest of the break. She doesn’t seem that reluctant and she sleeps on the trundle in Taj’s room because it’s only for a few days. He also knows that Waliyha and Louis have started taking Taj to see Liam. He knows that the Friday before Taj goes back to school Liam takes them to the children’s museum and lunch. He knows that when he works at the studio, Louis, Liam, and Taj usually go on some sort of outing. In two moments of weakness, he nearly does the two extremes: forbids it and begs to join. He doesn’t do either because he doesn’t want Taj to lose his grin or for himself to seem weak. 

            He’s thrown himself into his work, and he’s been told on numerous occasions recently that he seems almost manic. He’s gotten a lot more done, but it almost seems worthless because he doesn’t exude the calm energy that makes him good at his job. Everyone can feel the tension rolling off of him, and most of his sessions have been legitimate shit.

            Within weeks of going back to school, Taj gets a cold. Zayn wrinkles his nose at how schools are basically just large petri dishes. He makes sure he has plenty of fluids and tissues out for Taj. Taj gets super clingy too and whines about everything he has to do, so Zayn rents _Kung Fu Panda_ and _Horton Hears a Who_ to placate him. At night he just lays on Zayn until he falls asleep or whines that he wants Liam to be around because he’s more comfy to lie on. One night over the long MLK weekend, he crawls into bed with Zayn and presses his sweaty body against Zayn’s, his little limbs shivering. When he whines for Liam and his furnace-like ability, Zayn almost calls him because Taj is so pitiful. Zayn feels like a horrible parent, especially when Taj asks for Liam and then when he can’t take a day off to be with him because he’s already taken off too many days. His supervisor would be disdainful of anymore. So when Taj doesn’t seem better after the long weekend, Zayn calls and asks his mom if she can come watch him. She promises to be there by seven and he thanks her. 

            In the morning, he goes to check on Taj and he’s still feverish and coughing. He gives him more children’s ibuprofen, helps him change into a new pair of pajamas, makes him drink more water, and kisses his forehead. His mom shoos him to work and tells him not to worry because kids get sick all the time that she’ll take him to the doctor if he’s still ill tomorrow. 

            He’s bouncy all day and checking his phone for text messages on Taj’s wellness from his mom. He gets an all’s okay text message at ten and he leaves his phone on his desk when he goes to do five sessions. He comes back to three missed calls from twenties minutes into his first session, which was over two hours ago. He panics and rings her back. 

            “Hello?” She answers wearily. 

            “Mom, what’s wrong?”

            “I need you to sit down.”

            “What happened?”

            “He’s going to be alright.”

            “Shi-shout, just tell me.”

            “I had to call an ambulance, Zayn, he passed out in the middle of the living room while he was walking to the bathroom. When I rushed over to him, he was burning up. We’re at New York Hospital Queens. He’s been asking for you and Liam.” 

            “I’ll be there as soon as I can,” Zayn promises, and he thinks if his stomach wasn’t empty, he would vomit. He informs his supervisor who lets him go right away. He runs out to his car as quickly as possible. It’s not until he’s trying to scroll through his contacts that he realizes he’s crying. 

            He calls Louis and his sisters. His sisters already know and are on their way, and he can hear Louis get ready and leave his apartment with Harry as they hang up. He arrives and throws his car into a spot. His mom is pacing near the pediatric emergency room and she sags when she sees him. She pulls him into a hug and he wants to stay in the protective embrace forever. She takes him to a room and he can hear the beeping machines and see the body attached to them. His eyes are closed in a fitful sleep and Zayn needs to touch him to make sure he’s alive, even though the gentle beeping of the heart monitor is a constant reminder. His eyes flutter open when Zayn’s hand rests on his damp forehead. 

            “Daddy?” He asks softly, his eyes trying to focus on Zayn’s face. 

            “Yeah.”

            “I don’t feel very good.” 

            “I see that.”

             “I’m happy you came; I was scared.”

            “I’m sorry, baby.”

            “S’okay.”

            “Is there anything I can do to make you feel better?”

            “Can you call Liam and Uncle Louis and Aunt Waliyha and Aunt Doniya and Aunt Safaa? I want to seem them.” 

            “Aunt Safaa is in the waiting room with Grandma and Grandpa. Aunt Waliyha, Doniya, and Uncle Louis are on their way.”

            “What about Liam?”

            “I’ll call him.”

            “Thanks, daddy. I’m going to go back to sleep now ‘cause I’m tired.”

            He closes his eyes again and Zayn pushes his hair back. He goes out into the waiting room and his mom tells him that the doctors say that he has bacterial pneumonia. That they’re pretty positive he’ll be well after a round of antibiotics and lots of fluids and rest. 

* * *

            “Fuck,” Liam mumbles under his breath and fumbles with his phone to call Zayn back. Zayn doesn’t pick up. He finally processes the phone call and the realization that it’s about Taj hits him sharply. Zayn wouldn’t call for himself. How is he going to leave without bringing attention to himself. It’s three and the day isn’t supposed to end until five. He’s trying to figure out his escape plan. He can’t wait two hours to go to the hospital; he’ll never be forgiven. He finishes the paperwork on his desk as quickly as possible and rushes to Colonel Adkins’s office. 

            “Sir,” he asks, knocking on the door, “I’ve completed all the paperwork.”

            “Good god, Payne, that’s at least two days of work. I thought it would take you all week,” Adkins says amusedly, “You must be feeling it.”

            “Yes, sir,” he reports. 

            “Well, go home Payne, there’s nothing else for you to do today,” Adkins order, “Plus, I expected someone with a broken femur to beg off before now anyways.” 

            Liam tries to call Zayn again but he doesn’t pick up. He jumps onto the bus to the ZipCar station in Bay Ridge. He rents the last car and it’s over a hundred dollars for one day, but it doesn’t matter. He’s not going to spend two hours on public transport. When he finishes the paperwork for the car rental, he climbs into the car and calls Harry. He figures he’ll be the most sympathetic and actually pick up his phone. 

            “Hello?” Harry whispers into the phone. 

            “Hey, are you still at the hospital?” 

            “Yes, you’re an idiot.”

            “I know.”

            “You made Zayn cry.”

            “I’m sorry. He took the phone call the wrong way.”

            “No, you responded the wrong way. You didn’t just say all right I’ll be there. You asked what was wrong. You brought up your stupid job. The word hospital should have sufficed. And as angry as we all want to be with you, Taj is asking for you.”

            “I’m coming; I got a ZipCar.”

            “Good,” Harry says and clicks off the phone. 

            It still takes him nearly an hour to get to Queens, but he likes being in control. He likes knowing that he’s doing all he can to get there as fast as he can. He rushes into the hospital, skids to the front desk, and they point him in the direction of the pediatric unit. 

            He sees the entire Malik family in the waiting room with Louis and Harry. Louis and Doniya shoot daggers at him, and Harry and Travis have to lay calming hands on their respective significant others’ shoulders. Zayn’s not there, but he walks in a few moments later talking about how Taj is getting settled in his room. His eyes land on Liam and the rage ignites in his face.

            “Get out,” he hisses. 

            “No,” Liam responds firmly. 

            “Get out, get out, get out,” Zayn chants as he stalks up to Liam and starts shoving him out of the unit. 

            “I’m sorry,” Liam pleads and Zayn now is just beating on his chest. It hurts but it’s no longer meant to get him to leave. Zayn’s fists are pounding on his chest and he’s sobbing. Liam wraps his arms around Zayn’s flailing limbs and pulls him closer even though Zayn seems intent on hurting him. After a few minutes, the punching stops and Zayn presses his face into Liam’s neck with his hands pinned between their bodies. Liam’s neck gets extremely damp and he holds the back of Zayn’s head as Zayn grips his shirt.

            “Zayn, I’m so sorry. God, you don’t even know how sorry I am. I was shocked and I responded like an idiot.” 

            “He wants to see you,” Zayn whispers, “You’re the first person he asked me to call and you brushed it off.”

            “I’m sorry.” 

            “I can’t go in like this it’ll upset him,” Zayn says and scrubs his hand over his face.

            “Come on, we’ll go to the restroom and then go in to see him. Everyone else can go in right now.” 

            Zayn and Liam go into the restroom and Zayn splashes water on his face. Liam reaches out for him and then puts his hands in his pockets. 

            “Zayn, I want you to know that I love you two. I know you don’t think that, but I do. I didn’t know what was happening when you called. I’m terrified of all this. I’m terrified of being in love, I’m terrified of having a child who relies on me, I’m terrified of losing my job, I’m just plain terrified.”

            “So am I.”

            “But I realized that I’m more terrified of losing the two of you than anything else.” 

            “You swear?”

            “I swear.”

            “I still need some time. Okay?”

            “Okay.” 

            Zayn turns and pushes him against the wall of the restroom. He slides his hands under Liam’s shirt and kisses him. Liam holds the back of his neck devotedly. Zayn pulls away from the kiss, but keeps his hand on the dimples of Liam’s back. 

            “We can keep trying, right?”

            “Yeah, I won’t put my job first again.”

            Zayn nods but he doesn’t really believe Liam. He knows that until Liam quits, he’ll always be putting the military inadvertently first. They walk into Taj’s room together, their fingers tentatively linked. Taj lets out a wheezy shout that sends him into a coughing fit. Liam frowns and Zayn wrings his hands, but Taj’s glowing smile makes them loosen a little. Liam sits on the edge of the bed near Taj’s head and Taj wiggles so he’s pressed against him. He sighs into the warmth and whispers, “I want you to stay here with me.” 

            “I can do that buddy,” Liam says running his fingers through Taj’s sweaty hair. The rest of the room freezes and turns to look at Zayn who simply nods in response. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope it's what you were expecting.  
> PS Thank you for the birthday wishes!


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Liam gets an offer.

            The doctors say that Taj needs at least three days of bed rest, so Zayn calls his school and lets them know. The teacher offers to email over some information about what they’ll be covering but assures Zayn that he won’t be far behind even if he doesn’t finish the work. Taj only spends one night in the hospital to make sure the antibiotics are making an impact. Zayn’s mom offers to stay with them because Zayn can’t afford to take too many days off. All of this makes it harder to accept Liam back into their realm. He doesn’t want to give over responsibility to somebody who might not be around.

            He only takes off the day they bring Taj home from the hospital. When he gets home on Friday night, he’s expecting his mom to be watching the Food Network and Taj to be taking a nap. It’s frightening to Zayn how much Taj has been sleeping since he got sick. His little boy who would usually do anything not to sleep is now willingly going to his bedroom to take one or two naps a day. 

            Instead of finding his mom, he finds Taj asleep on Liam’s lap. Liam is running his hand slowly over Taj’s back and his other hand flicking through the channels. He smiles at Zayn and Zayn tries to return it, but the warmth that courses through him is paralyzing. He walks to the kitchen confused by the sight. It’s what he wants; Liam must have taken off early to be here now, but he wonders if it’ll last. He calls his mom.

            “Hello, sunshine.”

            “Hi, mom.”

            “Did you call about Liam?”

            “Yeah.”

            “Darling, you know I would never leave Taj with someone I didn't trust implicitly. You have to let that boy back in; I know it’s hard and he’ll probably hurt you again. It’ll probably be really difficult, but nothing is easy, darling. At least nothing that’s worth your time. Your relationship with Perrie was easy. If you thought that was better than you and Liam, you are so far in denial I don’t know what will save you.” 

            “Mom, this whole military thing just gets me.”

            “It’s his job, Zayn. You have to understand how he must feel about it. It was his goal since he was fifteen; his career has been his top priority for years. You can’t make him choose. You have to hope that he chooses you two over the military, but not force him to leave it. In the end, I think given the choice he’ll choose the two of you, but you have to know that giving someone an ultimatum never works out.” 

            Zayn lets out a heavy sigh and his mom chuckles softly. She says, “Go into the living room,” he sighs again but follows her direction. He stands where he can’t be seen but to where he still has a good vantage point of where Liam and Taj are sitting. “Think about what you see. Is that something you’d like to see more of? What does that make you feel? What emotions are evoked from the image? I want you to think about how you are feeling when you see those two together, and I want you to stop hesitating because you’re scared that you might care more about him than he does about you.”

            “Mom,” he drones.

            “And I know that you were trying to sneak him in and out without me noticing late in the evenings and early in the mornings, but in case you forgot I’ve raised four teenagers.” 

            Zayn sputters but doesn’t see the worth in denying it.  

            “I love you,” she says.

            “I love you too.”

            He hangs up and leans against the doorframe. He watches Liam who seems completely content to have Taj sprawled over him as he watches SportsCenter. Liam leans down unconsciously and kisses Taj’s forehead gently, checking his temperature. Liam doesn’t make mistakes like Zayn did when Taj was born and he’s not nearly as awkward as Zayn was. Zayn remembers Perrie giving him Taj and holding him awkwardly even though he’d spent enough time holding Safaa when she was an infant. 

            He knows his awkwardness came from the responsibility weighing on him. Every time he had held Taj for the first two weeks of his life, Taj had screamed bloody murder. Perrie had been pretty understanding, but after getting only five hours of sleep in fifty hours she lost it. She had demanded he take Taj, so she could sleep for a full night. They had spent an hour with Taj squirming and crying against him. He’s glad nobody was there to see him give into his tears and cry with his son for over twenty minutes. After that, it had gotten easier. However, it wasn’t like how easy Liam is making it look. 

            He walks fully into the living room and sits next to Liam on the couch, reaching out to check Taj’s temperature. He’s warm but not burning up like he had been earlier in the week; he’s just sleep-warm. Liam lifts his arm up and places it around Zayn’s shoulders, like it’s the most natural thing in the world. 

            Zayn shakes Taj’s shoulder tentatively to ask, “What do you want for dinner?”

            “Homemade chicken noodle soup?” Taj croaks and Zayn nods; he feels the smile tug at his mouth because it’s the first time Taj hasn’t said “nothing” for two weeks. 

            “I’ll make it,” Liam says and shifts Taj into Zayn’s lap. Taj curls into Zayn’s body heat and Zayn runs his fingers through his dark locks. Zayn likes this ability to split responsibilities, so that he doesn’t have to leave Taj alone on the couch especially when Taj hums happily at being cuddled. 

            The soup is delicious and Zayn can see Taj getting better by the minute. He hopes by the middle of next week he’ll be able to send him back to school. He smiles when Taj begs to watch _Toy Story_ again and Liam is incredibly enthusiastic. Taj, though, falls asleep before Woody and Buzz get to Pizza Planet. Liam offers to carry him to his room.

            When he comes back to the living room, they watch _The Dark Knight_. The screen entrances Liam and Zayn can watch him in peace. Liam looks contented and Zayn knows that he’s healing well. He’ll be out of his cast soon and starting physical therapy. Zayn’s worried that he’s going to have to go back to his tour. He can’t manage that. He doesn’t want him to go back now.

            The next morning, Liam tells Zayn that his mom is going to drive out his car and check up on him. He says he needs his car to be able to come see them more often. Zayn can’t stop smiling the entire day, even when Paul demands new paintings and he has to spend most of his Saturday at the studio instead of watching Disney-Pixar movies with Liam and Taj. 

* * *

            Colonel Adkins calls Liam into his office halfway through his desk duty, and he has an intense, internal freak-out. He doesn’t know what it’s regarding, but he hopes it’s nothing negative. He hopes Adkins hasn’t figured out where he’s going most weekends and some nights. He walks in and stands at attention until Adkins finishes the papers he’s working on. 

            “At ease, Payne,” Adkins says, “I have a bone to pick with you.”

            “Okay,” Liam says tentatively, his heart rate making it hard to hear.

            “Why didn’t you tell me you had a degree in civil engineering?”

            “I’m sorry, sir; I thought you knew.”

            “Well, I didn’t and I’ve been wasting your talents on menial paperwork.”

            “I thought that’s what desk duty was supposed to be about. I wasn’t expecting to get an engineering project; I thought those were only for warrant officers.” 

            “Payne, you have all the qualifications to be a warrant officer, if you wanted.”

            “I’m not sure if that’s where I want to go, sir.”

            “That’s how I was too, wanted to always protect my country physically. Thought fighting was more important than the other tasks.”

            “I didn’t mean it that way.”

            “Not the point, the point is that when I met my wife, I decided that maybe she was more important than going off to fight. I’ve noticed that you have someone you care about; it’s hard to miss with the way you take your lunch breaks in private and spend the time on the phone smiling. Just take it into consideration, Payne, I would be happy to have you.”

            “Thank you, sir.”

            He’s surprised by the offer and that Adkins has figured out that he has a significant other. He had thought he was being discreet, but he’s not too concerned because Adkins doesn’t seem suspicious at all. 

            He has to go to physical therapy that night, but afterwards he drives to Queens. When he arrives, Taj is already in pajamas. He launches himself at Liam, and expounds on how he’s excited to be going to Myrtle Beach for spring break. Liam agrees, and Taj makes Liam tell him everything they’re going to do in Myrtle Beach again. Zayn sighs indulgently and tells Taj that he needs to get in bed. Taj sighs over-dramatically and as a compromise both Zayn and Liam have to read him a story. 

            When they leave Taj’s room, Zayn presses Liam into the wall in the hallway, kissing him fiercely. He rubs against the front of Liam’s pants and Liam almost forgets that he needs to discuss the promotion with Zayn. When he pulls away from the heated kiss, Zayn makes a toe-curling noise in the back of his throat. 

            “I’m horny,” Zayn moans into Liam’s neck. 

            “We need to talk,” Liam says, even as his hips buck into Zayn’s. 

            “That sounds ominous,” Zayn responds, rolling his hips seductively, “Don’t want ominous, want amorous.”

            Liam laughs, “Come on, Zayn, this is serious. I’ll let you do anything you want after we talk about this.”

            Zayn’s face lights up and Liam almost regrets that offer, “Anything I want?”

            “Well, within reason, Zayn.”

            Zayn harrumphs but seems to decide he’ll take his chances and leads them to the living room. He pushes Liam into the chair and he thinks Zayn will take a seat on the couch to avoid distraction, but he doesn’t seem too committed because he straddles Liam’s hips, stares at his face, and orders, “Speak.”

            “I’m not a dog.”

            “Liam, get the fuck on with it.”

            “I’ve been offered a raise.”

            “Good for you,” Zayn sighs, like he doesn’t care, “It’s still military.”

            “But it’ll be mostly a desk job. I might have to ship out, but I’ll never be in direct combat again.”

            “No more suicide bombers?”

            “Well, I can’t completely remove it from the list, but for the most part, yeah, no more suicide bombers. I’ll be far off the front lines, and I’ll be using my degree from West Point.”

            “You’ve never told me what you have a degree in.”

            “Civil Engineering.”

            “Wait, what the fuck? You could get a job anywhere.”

            “I mean I guess.”

            “You guess?”

            “Zayn, I thought this would be good for us.”

            “Getting a job outside of the Army would be good for us. For fuck’s sake, Liam, you could be making way more than you’re making now.”

            “Yeah, but I wouldn’t be protecting my nation.”

            “The nation that won’t let you be who you are? The nation that makes us have to hide? The nation that will fire you from your job because you like to suck my dick?”

            “Zayn, forget I said anything, I thought it would make you happy. I’m sorry, you can do whatever it is you wanted,” Liam nearly pleads.

            “My libido seems to have receded.”

            “Do you want me to leave?”

            “Fuck, Liam, I’m not going to do that anymore. I’m not going to kick you out every time we fight.”

            “Okay.”

            “I think I’m going to go to bed.”

            “Okay.”

            Liam waits another hour before he heads to the master bedroom. Zayn is lying with his body turned away from Liam’s side of the bed, and every so often he softly hiccups like someone who fell asleep in tears. It makes Liam regretful and pinprick tears to disturb his eyes. 

            Zayn wakes him up the next morning with soft kisses along his neck, “If you need to be part of the military, I’d rather you be the safest you can be.” Liam flips to face Zayn and his face is sincere. He kisses him softly at first but moving to something desperate that makes their teeth clack. 

            “Morning breath gets more and more unattractive the longer you’re with someone,” Zayn says as he pulls away. Liam’s uncharacteristic giggle startles Zayn. They go to the bathroom, brush their teeth, and climb into the shower. They stay in the shower until the water runs cold. 

            Liam accepts Adkins’s offer and they talk about his options. He’ll get more money and his housing options will open as well. Being an officer means he has the ability to move off base. Liam looks at the Basic Allowance for Housing and remembers the sign hanging on the door to Zayn’s apartment building about an apartment for rent. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, this is short and late. This story is coming to an end, but there will be drabbles to follow!


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Liam makes a housing decision.

            This is the first time Zayn has seen Liam in nearly a week, except for the five minutes he saw him at the studio when he picked Taj up so Zayn could paint. He knows that this new job is stressful on him and he’s just learning the ropes that it’ll cool down when he’s no longer trying to play catch-up. But Zayn really just wants to tie him up on his bed and leave him there, but Liam and Taj are sitting at the small dining table in the corner of the living-dining room combo. Taj’s face is concentrated as Liam explains how to know if you should use addition or subtraction in a word problem. They make a chart of words separating them between addition and subtraction. Liam is patient and talks in reassuring tones when Taj gets frustrated. They finish the worksheet that Taj was too frustrated to do at Mrs. Hardy’s. Taj hugs Liam’s side and Liam ruffles his hair as he runs to go play in his room. 

            “Are you sure you don’t want to have your own kids one day?” Zayn asks Liam. 

            Liam looks up at him and rolls his eyes, “What are you doing?”

            “Asking you a question.”

            “Sounds more like picking a fight.”

            “I just think you’d be an amazing dad, and you should get the chance to do that.”

            “Are you saying adoption is out of the question?”

            “I don’t know if we could afford it, and it’s an arduous process.”

            “I wasn’t talking about another child, though I wouldn’t be completely against that, I was talking about Taj.”

            “What?” Zayn asks and his heartbeat thunders in his ears. His first reaction is ‘No’ and that isn’t because he doesn’t love Liam and doesn’t think he’d make a wonderful dad. He doesn’t want to share Taj. He is Taj’s dad. He’s scared to let Liam push him out.

            “I’ve thought about maybe sometime in the future marrying you and adopting Taj.”

            “But, but we can’t.”

            “Well, yeah, not right now, but the country is getting more progressive, and I think Obama will make a lot of difference.” 

            “Do you really want to do all those things?”

            “Yeah, of course, but first I think we should just talk about our living arrangements.” 

            “What about them?”

            “I saw the sign that there’s an apartment for rent in the building.”

            “Yeah, right down the hall. It’s a studio where some young teacher lives.”

            “Well I have a BAH now, and I want to be near you guys.”

            “But a studio is too small for you.”

            “I was thinking I wouldn’t spend a lot of time there, maybe keep it around for when Waliyha needs a place to stay when she comes to babysit Taj and I need to have an excuse to be in this building overnight so frequently.”

            “You mean…”

            “I mean I’m inviting myself to live with you,” Liam declares; his cheeks flushing and his eyes dropping to his toes.  

            “O fuck, Liam, fuck,” Zayn says, and he tilts Liam’s chin up and kisses him hard. He nips at Liam’s lower lip and Liam’s returning moan makes Zayn pull away, “Where’s Taj?”

            “I think he went to his room.”

            “We need to feed him and get him to bed before we do anything else.” 

            “That’s probably true,” Liam says, but he pulls Zayn closer and nips at his stubble-covered jaw.

            “Fuck, don’t do that, I’ll forget I have a kid that needs to be fed and tucked in,” Zayn groans as Liam moves to the tender part of his neck. Liam snorts into his neck and Zayn goes to run his hand into the grown out buzz cut. He feels the giggle roll up his throat and burst onto the top of Liam’s head. Liam, in turn, smiles into Zayn’s neck and his humid laugh makes Zayn squirm. 

            There’s a heavy sigh from the hallway, and Taj stands there with his fists on his hips and declares, “I’m hungry.”

            “Yes, sir,” Liam says straightening up and saluting at Taj who only narrows his eyes at them, and then makes a “move along” gesture that makes Zayn bury his face in Liam’s shirt to stifle his chuckle. 

            “I want grilled cheese and tomato soup,” Taj demands as if he’s perfectly used to ordering around people two decades older than him. 

            “Woah there, do we get a please?” 

            Taj lets out a put upon sigh, “Please.”

            “I’m not letting you spend as much time with Uncle Lou,” Zayn says, throwing Taj into the air, “I do not like this sass master monster that he’s created.”

            “Uncle Lou says a little sass never hurt anyone,” Taj declares when Zayn puts him down and he runs to the kitchen, “I want to help.”

            “Until I hurt him over it,” Zayn mumbles so only Liam can hear and Liam chuckles heartily. 

            Taj gets out the ingredients and helps make the sandwiches with too many slices of cheese before Liam puts them on the griddle. Zayn heats up the organic tomato and red pepper soup that he gets from Trader Joe’s. The three of them are standing with their hips pressed together with Taj on a stool between them. Liam holds an arm in front of Taj’s chest when he gets a little too excited, and Zayn hands him the wooden spoon to let him help stir so he can avoid the searing metal griddle and popping butter. 

            They eat while Taj natters on about his day. Liam asks Taj follow-up after follow-up questions and Zayn just watches the enthusiasm wash over them. He can see the genuine interest in Liam’s eyes and mutual affection between them. He adds his own questions and Taj answers them animatedly while Liam throws him a loving smile as if to say “Look at this brilliant kid we have.” He hopes his returning smile conveys the same adoration but conceals the overwhelming hope. 

            They’ve started tag-teaming Taj at bedtime, meaning the six year old has no chance; he usually conks out now by eight-thirty instead of the nine or nine-thirty that Zayn can manage on his own. He hates that Liam hasn’t been around recently to help with the routine, without him they flounder. He doesn’t want his excitement at the prospect of Liam being around more often to scare Liam off. 

            They pick up the kitchen and living area and are ready to watch Criminal Minds when it comes on at nine. Zayn plays with Liam’s fingers during the show; he likes watching Liam flex them after Zayn has contorted them in every which way. Liam barely even glances at his antics until Zayn sucks a finger into his mouth.

            “Babe,” Liam says, the last note going up in question. Zayn smirks at him and straddles his hips pressing his erection into Liam’s groin. 

            “I want you to fuck me,” Zayn responds. 

            Zayn loves controlling Liam like this. Moving the fingers that he was just playing with to his ass and the other hand to inside his un-buttoned pants. Putting pressure on Liam’s quickly growing cock. He directs all of their movements and guides the rhythm. He smirks into a cut-off kiss that has Liam moaning. 

            It’s when Liam picks him up that surprises him. He hasn’t seen Liam’s unbridled strength since before he left to fight overseas and now it’s back. Zayn had forgotten how quickly Liam could turn the tables and manhandle him wherever he wants him. Zayn’s not sure how much he likes it, but by the way his cock leaks on his stomach he likes it an awful lot more than he lets on. 

            Liam stumbles into the master bedroom; Zayn trying his best to not become any heavier in Liam’s arms because Liam will like to pretend he’s all better Zayn sees the twinges of pain on his face every once in a while. Liam slams him against the door and Zayn wraps his legs around Liam’s hips. Liam grinds their crotches together and Zayn whimpers. 

            “I want to ride you,” Zayn breathes out between pants. 

            “I don’t know,” Liam hisses, “I think I like you just like this.”

            “Leeyum,” Zayn whines, and then he’s bouncing on the bed with Liam right behind him. 

“Get to it then,” Liam says, shucking his clothes to the ground and throwing open the dresser for lube and condoms. 

            Liam opens him roughly and Zayn nearly comes from that. He likes the burn; it makes his hips twitch back onto Liam’s fingers and his cock to leak. He goes to straddle Liam after barely three fingers and Liam makes a noise of protest. 

            “I like the burn,” Zayn hisses into Liam’s ear, tugging on the lobe with his teeth. 

            “Fuck, Zayn,” Liam moans and Zayn can feel Liam’s fingers dance from his hips to his cock to his thighs. The burn is almost too much, and when he is completely seated, he kisses Liam to distract himself from the pain. It soon switches from merely a painful burn to the luscious burn that he was praising before and he can move. Liam’s soon bucking underneath him and Zayn is guiding one of Liam’s hands to his needing cock. Liam wraps his fingers around Zayn expertly and teases the fuck out of him. 

            “I swear to…” but he doesn’t finish the sentiment because he’s pulsing between their bodies after Liam nudges his prostate. Liam smirks up at him and Zayn kisses it off his face. Liam flips their positions and pumps a few more times before collapsing onto Zayn’s back. When he gains back enough strength, Liam flips Zayn onto his back. It gets Zayn’s dick’s attention, but he’s just not young enough anymore to be ready for round two so quickly. Liam licks the cum off Zayn’s stomach before pulling him to press flush against Liam’s warm body, slotting a leg between Zayn’s and hooking his chin over Zayn’s shoulder. 

* * *

            Liam signs his studio lease for the first of April and Harry and Louis help him pack up his apartment on base while Harry, Louis, and Zayn help him unpack all his stuff at his new place. He doesn’t have a lot of his own furniture, which surprises Zayn. He explains that he doesn’t have much because most of the base apartments are furnished and he’d been in the barracks before. All he has is the stuff his mom had shipped from storage. The futon he bought when he was at West Point and the mattress from his room at home. 

            They buy Harry and Louis craft beer and two pizzas for their efforts. Louis bitches about the strain he gets in his hamstring but seems placated when Harry promises him a massage when they get home. They don’t ask Louis and Harry to stay to unpack the knick-knacks because it’s too personal. Liam is almost worried to do it with Zayn, but Zayn makes it easy. He doesn’t comment just observes everything with calculating eyes, as if he’s trying to inventory it all in his mind. As if he’s trying to make a Liam inventory for later. The knick-knacks are old anyways; all the newer things have been left in boxes in different areas in Zayn’s apartment. 

            When they’re done unpacking for the night, they fall asleep in a heap on the bed after sloppy blowjobs. The next morning they’re both sore and instead of unpacking more, end up christening every surface. In the afternoon, there’s a light rap on the door and it’s Taj with Waliyha. Taj is grinning brightly at them.

            “What are you doing?” He asks sunnily as he glances around the room.

            “Unpacking all of Liam’s boxes.” 

            Taj's face actually drops and he loses his jovial disposition. He crosses his arms, kicks a box, and runs out of the apartment. Zayn and Liam share a shocked look. Zayn sprints down the hallway after him and Liam can see Taj maniacally twisting on the handle to their apartment. Zayn lets them both in and Taj sprints away from him again. Zayn turns to Liam and makes a shrugging gesture. Zayn waves Liam back into his apartment to unpack. 

            After a half an hour, Liam gets worried and locks up before heading down to Zayn's, no their, apartment. He goes inside and finds Zayn sitting with his back against Taj’s door, talking soothingly through the door. Liam raises his eyebrow at Zayn and Zayn shrugs as if to say he still doesn’t know what’s wrong. Liam gestures to the door asking for a chance and Zayn smiles and scoots over so they can both sit against Taj’s door. 

            “Buddy,” Liam starts. 

            “Liam?” Taj asks, sounding insanely hopeful. 

            “Yeah,” Liam reassures, “Yeah, it’s Liam, buddy.” 

            Taj throws open the door and Zayn and Liam nearly fall backwards. Liam feels tiny arms wrap around his neck from behind in a vice grip and he chuckles. He pulls Taj off his back so he can look at him properly. Liam wipes the tears from beneath Taj’s eyes and shushes the little hiccups with noises and back pats. 

            “I thought you were coming to live with us,” Taj wails. 

            “Of course, I am, I told you that,” Liam reassures.

            “Then why were you unpacking your boxes in that other apartment?”

            “Well,” Liam begins.

            “It’s complicated, kid,” Zayn says, “But Liam is coming to live with us here full-time.”

            “Promise?” Taj asks. 

            “Promise,” they both say. 

            He still looks unconvinced, so they show him all the boxes Liam has all over the apartment. Taj is almost crazed as he runs to each box, throws it open, and starts removing things. 

            “Calm down, you don’t want to break anything,” Zayn says gently. 

            “But I just want him to stay,” Taj whines. 

            “I promise I’m staying,” Liam says, picking up Taj and holding him close, “Whether or not the boxes are unpacked doesn’t matter to me.”


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vacation time.

            Zayn is wrapping up his work because he won’t be back for six days when his phone skitters across his desk with a text message. He glances at it and picks it up with a smile, assuming it’s a text from Liam about dinner or packing for Myrtle Beach. Instead it’s a message from Waliyha, her boyfriend has gotten tickets to the Mets game from his dad and she wants to know if Taj can go. Her boyfriend is bringing his younger brother and he’s close to Taj’s age. Zayn sends back an affirmative text message and calls Mrs. Hardy and Taj’s school to let them know that Waliyha will be picking him up. 

            At first, Zayn doesn’t even consider what him and Liam can do with an empty apartment other then pack for their trip without little hands taking more out of the suitcase than putting in. It hits him when he’s driving home that they don’t have to be quiet tonight, they don’t have to wait until after ten, and his foot pushes down the accelerator a little more. He gets home before Liam and orders a pizza that will be there in an hour and a half.  

            He’s thinking of all the stuff they usually can’t do and he’s ridiculously hard against the zipper of his chinos. If Liam doesn’t hurry up, he’ll have to take matters into his own hand, literally. He hears the key shift in the door and he nearly skips to see Liam. 

            “Hey, babe,” Liam says when he sees Zayn walking toward him. 

            Liam toes off his shoes, and Zayn pushes him against the front door. Liam lets out a surprised huff and looks at Zayn questioningly. Zayn smirks and goes right for the spot on Liam’s neck that he knows makes him hard. Liam runs his hand up and down Zayn’s side and Zayn bucks forward to bring Liam’s attention to his unbuttoned pants.

            “Where’s Taj?” Liam asks when he regains his wits. 

            “Mets game with Waliyha.”

            Liam smiles and his hands immediately shift to Zayn’s hips. His fingers move to the band of Zayn’s boxer briefs and soon they’re wrapping around Zayn. Even though he’s been hard for nearly an hour, he bats away Liam’s hand so that he can drop to his knees. 

            He makes quick work of the blowjob and Liam is burying his fingers in Zayn’s hair, moaning incoherently. Zayn swallows rhythmically and pulls off with a shit-eating grin on his face. 

            “Jesus Christ, Zayn,” Liam says when he can finally talk. 

            “That’s just the beginning, babe.” 

            “Fuck,” Liam whispers, “Are you trying to kill me?” 

            “What a way to go.”

            “Not today, babes.” 

            “Pizza will be here soon.” 

            “Better return the favor quickly then.” 

            Zayn leers at him as Liam drags him to the couch and shoves him onto it. Liam pulls off Zayn’s pants and boxer-briefs. He kneels on the floor in front of Zayn and opens his mouth. After he licks the tip, Zayn guides Liam with a hand on the back of his head. He comes quickly and Liam wipes some of the excess off his mouth before kissing Zayn again. When the buzzer trills, Liam tucks himself back into his pants and buzzes up the deliveryman. They eat quickly in relative silence. 

            After they finish eating, Liam grabs the lube out of their room and opens him up bent over the couch. Liam fucks him into the back of the couch and holds Zayn down as he rocks his hips harshly against Zayn’s ass. When Liam comes quickly, he flips Zayn over so that he can suck him off again, but this time his finger plays with Zayn’s stretched hole. Zayn babbles obscenities as he comes down Liam’s throat for the second time that night. 

            Liam drags Zayn to the bedroom and falls into their bed. Zayn makes a protest about having to pack, and Liam groans and begs for just a few minutes of rest. They both fall asleep and don’t wake up until it’s nearly ten. Zayn swears and throws himself out of the bed looking for his checklist that he made over two weeks ago. Liam’s more lazy and just starts throwing t-shirts from his closet into a bag until Zayn glares daggers at him. He fidgets and then asks Zayn what he should pack like he’s Taj’s age. Zayn gives Liam his own personal checklist for his bag and Liam huffs at the items, but then Zayn reminds him how when they went to go stay at Louis and Harry’s, he forgot socks, a toothbrush, and his pills; thankfully, Zayn had seen the pills on the counter and thrown them into his bag. 

            It’s nearly midnight and they’ve finished packing and are watching some home improvement show that Liam likes. Zayn’s just playing with Liam’s fingers again and kissing Liam’s random moles and freckles. Waliyha knocks on the door and her boyfriend is holding a sleeping Taj. Liam takes him and carries him to his room. 

            The next morning they leave at ten to make sure they can check into their hotel in Richmond by four in the afternoon. Taj is still tired from his late night out with Waliyha so they order room service and a movie that isn’t even out on DVD yet. Taj falls asleep between them on their bed and Zayn transfers him to the other bed when they’re ready to go to sleep. 

            They leave early the next morning for Myrtle Beach because everyone is up at the crack of dawn from their early night. They switch who drives every two hours, while the other sits, reads the directions, and mans the iPod. Taj is content in the backseat with his stack of books from the library and the coloring books Liam bought him that Zayn scoffed at.  

            Their hotel has a water park connected and Taj begs them, with a yawn, to go to the park as soon as they’re in their room. Zayn wants nothing more than to unpack and organize the room for the rest of the trip. He can feel the anxiety of having an unorganized room build up as well as the dread of a confrontation on vacation skyrocket. Taj sighs when he sees Zayn start to unpack meticulously and Zayn is waiting for the pouting and protesting when Liam wraps his arms around Zayn’s waist and hooks his chin over Zayn’s shoulder so his mouth is blowing warm breath on Zayn’s neck.  

            “I’ll take him down,” Liam whispers into Zayn’s ear, “Get him out of your hair, if you want?”

            “Really?”

            “Course,” Liam laughs and Zayn shivers when Liam’s lips unintentionally graze over the sensitive spot below his ear. 

            “Can we? Please, daddy.” Taj says grabbing his swim trunks out of the bag.

            “I should say no just because you’re nosy and eavesdropping.” 

            Taj crosses his arms over his chest and his eyes well with tears, and Zayn amends, “But I won’t because you two will just make my life more difficult.”

            Liam snorts and Taj squeals as he sprints to the bathroom to put on his swimsuit. Liam rummages through his bag to find his trunks and Zayn sighs dramatically when Liam leaves his bag haphazardly.

            “Zee, you need to relax; it’s vacation,” Liam says when Zayn huffs angrily and starts folding Liam’s clothes. 

            “When I was little, I never packed enough,” Zayn says as he starts transporting the clothes to the dresser under the TV. “But then one time I forgot Taj’s special prescription formula when we flew to New York when he was an infant. His colic was so bad that night because we had to feed him regular formula.”

            “But he’s okay and he will be okay. I think he’ll be better though if you come down with us.” 

            Zayn shrugs as he sets the first aid kit next to the sink. Taj comes out and pushes Liam toward the bathroom to change into his trunks. When he comes out of the bathroom, Zayn’s barely finished the small bag he brought. Liam grabs Zayn’s hand and pulls him to his chest. He kisses him softly. Zayn doesn’t return the kiss and quickly wiggles out of Liam’s embrace. 

* * *

            Taj immediately sprints to the elevator and presses the button. Liam meets him just as the doors are opening. They climb onto the elevator and they follow the signs to the water park. 

            When they walk in, Taj isn’t nearly as excited. There are a lot of people walking around and the focal point is an intimidating slide. Taj slides his hand into Liam’s and presses himself against Liam’s side. 

            “What do you want to do first, bud?”

            “I don’t know.”

            “How about we do the lazy river first?”

            “Okay.”

            Liam grabs them a two-person inner-tube and holds Taj’s hand until he’s climbing onto the flotation device. Liam lays silently unless Taj speaks directly to him. After a little bit, Taj is excitedly pointing at things he wants to do. 

            “Can we go on the slide?” Taj asks him as they tumble out of the tube to climb up the stairs. 

            “If you want to,” Liam says. 

            They wait in a ridiculously long line, but Taj doesn’t seem to care as he rambles about everything he wants to do. Liam worries a little when the operator tells Taj to not let go but he doesn’t, and Taj gets off giggling excitedly about how he wants to go again. Liam convinces him to wait for Zayn for the next ride. They end up at the kiddie pool where Taj plays under the different fountains as Liam sits on the edge of the pool. Every once in a while, Taj will run over to talk to Liam, but he seems content to play in the water by himself. 

            “Your son’s very cute,” a woman says as she moves to sit next to him. 

            “Thanks,” Liam says, barely glancing at her. He does realize that she is attractive, though. He also realizes that she might be flirting with him or just talking about her children who are playing near Taj. It doesn’t take him long to figure out that she is definitely trying to flirt with him, and his suspicions are doubly confirmed when a possessive hand drops on the back of his neck. 

            “Hey, babe,” Zayn says loudly enough for the woman to hear, and Liam wants to laugh at Zayn and the woman’s faces. Liam gives him a quick kiss and Taj runs over to them, begging Zayn to go on the big slide. Zayn makes up a flimsy excuses, but Liam doesn’t want to call him out so he takes Taj again. Zayn waits at the bottom of the slide for them.

            They go back to their room to change, and then head to the beach to have dinner. They fall asleep quickly that night exhausted. The next morning they have breakfast in their room and then head to the beach.  Zayn stays yards away from the tide, which confuses Liam because he’s the one who suggested the beach vacation. Liam and Taj run towards the ocean and Zayn yells at them to come back, “Taj, come here.”

            “No, you come here, daddy,” Taj yells back. 

            “Taj Malik, come here right now; you don’t need to be in the water,” Zayn orders. 

            Taj and Liam come sulkily towards him. Liam knows Taj is just as confused as he is. He wraps their fingers together and starts to drag Zayn toward the ocean but Zayn digs his heels into the sand.

            “What’s wrong?” Liam asks.

            “Nothing, you were just too close to the water.”

            “That’s kind of the point of a beach, babe.” 

            “I can’t swim,” Zayn mumbles.

            “That’s okay, I’ll save you,” Liam says.

            “You’re ridiculous.”

            Liam drags Zayn toward the water so the tide licks at their ankles and calves.  Taj plays in the water further than Zayn would like, but when a big wave comes, Liam scoops Taj up into his arms to keep the water from knocking him over.

            They have fun at the beach: they build sandcastles, play in the waves, and eat ice cream. An older woman tells them how beautiful their family is and Liam can’t stop grinning for the rest of the day. That night they go back to the hotel and Taj falls asleep right away. Zayn curls up on Liam’s chest as he flicks through the channels.

            “I love you,” Zayn says, tilting his face up to look at Liam.

            “I love you too,” Liam responds with a kiss to the forehead, “And I love Taj too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Epilogue next and then drabbles. I feel like this is definitely winding down, but the drabbles will be super fun!


	15. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Don't ask, don't tell ends.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this is late! However, it is super long to make up for it!

         “It’s been a big three days, huh?” Zayn says as he wraps his arms around Liam’s waist and kisses the back of his neck.

         “Mmhmm,” Liam hums as he moves the wooden spoon through the chicken stir-fry he’s making for dinner.

         “I was thinking that maybe we should plan something,” he says.

         “Like what?” Liam asks as he turns to try to look at Zayn when he lets go.

         Zayn’s heartbeat is deafening as he removes his arms from around Liam and gets down on one knee.

         “What are you doing?” Liam questions.

         “Now that ‘Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell’ is over and same sex-marriage is legal in New York, will you marry me?”

         “Jesus, Zayn, yes, yes, yes,” Liam declares, pulling Zayn to his feet.

         “I had to do it now,” Zayn says into Liam’s mouth, “Otherwise, I thought I’d lose my nerve and you would do it instead. So I got the ring today, and I had to do it. You don’t have to wear the ring if you don’t want to.”

         “This was perfect. And of course, I’ll wear the ring.”

         “Your idea was probably more romantic.”

         “Zayn, this was perfect,” Liam says, kissing Zayn softly as he slides the ring onto Liam’s finger.

         “No, it wasn’t but thanks for the sentiment.”

         “Is dinner ready?” Taj asks, cutting off Liam’s protest as he slides into the kitchen.

         “Yeah, kid,” Zayn says.

         “Taj, what do you think of me and your dad getting married?” Liam asks.

         “You are married,” Taj says plainly as he grabs a juice box out of the fridge. He grabs Arya’s sippy-cup and puts it on her high chair. Zayn lifts Arya out of the playpen to put in her high chair and she babbles at him, “You’re our parents, you live in the same place, you take care of each other when you’re sick, and you love each other. Isn’t that what married people do?”

         “Yeah, but before we couldn’t because Papa would’ve been fired from his job and it was illegal in New York,” Zayn explains.

         “That’s stupid,” Taj comments, and his face scrunches.

         “You’re right,” They say in unison as they sit at the dining room table.

         “Papa,” Arya demands and Liam looks at her. She opens and closes her hands and then smacks them on the tray. He has chicken and vegetables without spices and sauce that he cut into tiny pieces for her.

         “Hungry, baby girl?” Liam asks and Arya babbles happily at him.

         “We got to let it cool,” he says to her.

         She waits patiently for maybe half a minute before she implores again, “Papa?”

         “Hold on,” he says as he serves himself and Taj.

         She swivels in her chair and looks at Zayn as he loads his plate up, “Dada?”

         “You’re an impatient one; Papa’s making sure your tiny mouth doesn’t burn.”

         Her face crumples a little and she begins to whimper and Liam explains again, “It’s too hot.”

         “Ari, look at me,” Taj says as he plays peekaboo with her. She sniffles the first three times, but the fourth time she giggles. Taj continues to amuse his sister until Liam touches the food to his lips before dumping it onto Arya’s tray. She excitedly picks up a piece of baby corn and gnaws on it. She makes little pleased noises as she munches on her food. They all begin eating and there isn’t any talking, which lets Liam know that the stir-fry is pretty good.

         “Is that why you couldn’t get me at the hospital when I broke my foot?” Taj asks suddenly.

         “Yeah, that’s why we had to wait for your dad to come before I could come see you.”

         “Will you be able to come get me if you guys get married?”

         “Well, that’s a different process,” Zayn interjects.

         Taj nods introspectively and clarifies, “I want you to be able to come get me, Papa.”

         “Me too,” Liam assures and that seems to solve it for Taj. He goes back to his meal, but Zayn won’t look up at Liam. He’s worried and he knows he shouldn’t be, but he is. The rest of dinner he can feel Liam’s puppy-dog gaze bearing into him, but he keeps his eyes on his plate and methodically spears each item to bring to his mouth.

         Arya goes to bed first. After a few board books, she easily flops into her crib. She’s asleep when Zayn goes to check on her fifteen minutes later. They turn off the TV at eight and Taj knows that’s his cue to go to his room. Taj gets ready for bed and they read a chapter of _Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban_ together. Liam is doing some work when Zayn is done reading, so Zayn sketches. Zayn draws the hands as they move across Liam’s keyboard, paying close attention to the new addition to Liam’s left hand. He feels elated and a slight possessive swirl. Every once in a while Liam will stop typing and twirl the ring around his finger as he reads something, a little grin on his face. After sketching, Zayn’s fingers itch to paint and find the exact tone of Liam’s skin and the platinum band. Liam has started to glance at him more, and he knows that it’s sometimes distracting for Liam when Zayn sketches him. Liam finishes his work before the news comes on at eleven. They head to their room to watch the news and go to bed. Liam immediately flops on his side and Zayn was expecting a bigger reaction from him. He was at least expecting a blowjob. Liam never lies like this unless he’s mad at Zayn. Zayn slides his fingers into Liam’s hair and a minuscule tense makes his stomach drop.

         “I love you,” Zayn says softly.

         “I love you too,” Liam responds, but he doesn’t move.

         “I can't wait to marry you,” Zayn whispers, trying again.

         “Me too.”

         Zayn keeps his hand on the back of Liam’s head, and it would usually relax Liam. He would usually quickly fall asleep, but Zayn can tell he’s purposefully evening out his breaths because they sound forced and calculated.

         “What’s wrong?”

         “I love Taj and Arya.”

         “I know.”

         “I want to adopt them.”

         Zayn remains silent and there’s slight hope swelling in him. He should expect this, but he doesn’t. He doesn’t expect much and maybe that’s his problem. Liam’s upset, he can tell.

         “I want to be able to get them from the hospital if they get hurt. I don’t want people to question my relationship to them. I want to be responsible for them. If something ever happens to you, I want them to stay with me.”

         “It’s a lot of responsibility.”

         “You act like I haven’t been doing it for over two years with you.”  

         “But it’ll be different.”

         “Yeah, I won’t have to worry about seeing my kids if something happens to you or if something happens to us. I don’t want to have to worry about the generosity of others. I want everything that comes with legal responsibility.”

         “I’d never keep them from you.”

         “That’s not the point. I don’t want my relationship with them to be contingent on my relationship with you. I want us to be equal when it comes to them.”

         “Are you sure?”

         “More sure than I have ever been about anything. Even if we were not getting married, I’d want to do this, Zayn. They mean everything to me.”

         “Okay, we’ll start the process tomorrow.”

         “Thank you.”

         Liam finally flips over and Zayn is pretty sure it’s the best blowjob he’s ever had, or maybe it feels like the best because he feels that the yolk has spread from solely his shoulders to Liam’s as well.

         It takes over two months to finalize the adoption, but the day that it comes is more exciting than Zayn expects. They can’t wait for the birth certificates to arrive and have proof that they are Liam’s children too. Taj cries with tears of joy and Zayn watches Liam’s eyes well too when Taj’s tears make his neck wet.

         Nothing changes, it’s not as if Liam wasn’t acting as a parent before. This just legitimizes their relationships. It also takes an extraordinary burden off Zayn’s shoulders. Zayn feels more comfortable and maybe he had unconsciously seen their relationship as conditional. Zayn knows Liam is adamant not to let Zayn’s hang-ups cause a rift in their relationship, especially when that’s what Zayn is expecting.

         “Congratulations on becoming a father of two,” Zayn comments in bed that night with his chin on Liam’s shoulder.

         “Thanks.”

         “I’m glad you’re going to be my partner in this.”

         “Me too.”

         “I’m sorry if I ever made you feel like I didn’t want you to do this.”

         “I get it.”

         “But you shouldn’t have to and how excited Taj was made me hate that I made you doubt whether or not you should do it. He already sees you as his dad, but others might not. It would only be a detriment to him if you hadn’t adopted him. I feel like a fucking idiot.”

         “Don’t worry about it,” Liam says as he pulls Zayn closer to his body.

         “I hate when you just accept the fact that I’m incredibly fucked up.”

         Liam laughs and his eyes crinkle with it. Zayn knows he’s pouting but it’s just so annoying. Liam kisses Zayn’s neck and Zayn can feel his resolve dropping. He’s not angry; he just hates when Liam does his little perfection thing. Liam presses their groins together and rocks their hips together.

         “Liam,” he moans when he can feel his dick hardening and he moves to shimmy out of his boxer-briefs.

         “Let’s get off like horny teenagers, instead of fathers,” Liam proffers, hooking a leg over Zayn’s hip. Zayn obliges and rocks into Liam’s hips like he’s trying to get off before his parents get home, when really their biggest concern is Taj knocking on the door and Arya wailing from her crib.

         His boxers are chaffing and it’ll be slightly unsatisfying in the end, but Liam’s making little noises that he doesn’t want him to stop and he’s kissing the tattoo on Zayn’s left collarbone. His tongue swirling over the letters and then sucking them until the skin around them is red. No teenager, Zayn was ever with, was more worried about getting him off then him or herself, and Zayn comes first when Liam clutches the back of his neck and kisses him hard. Liam thrusts a few more times against him and then is coming with little breathy noises in Zayn’s neck. Noises that make Zayn forget how uncomfortable having the fabric of his boxers sticking to his flaccid penis are. But he can’t forget about it for long, and he convinces Liam to have a follow-up performance in the shower and this time it’s more like the sex that an engaged couple would have.

         The next month is filled with wedding decisions that need both of their opinions before Liam goes to San Francisco for three weeks to work on an onsite project. Having such a short timeline has left them with little or undesirable or ostentatiously expensive options for most of the things on their checklist. Liam is frustratingly lackadaisical about each item and only has input on the food and guest list, which infuriates Zayn for two reasons: one, he needs help and two, he now knows how Perrie felt and he hates himself a little. Right before he leaves, Liam gets oddly interested in all the details, and Zayn figures that he’s feeling guilty for his previous attitude. In retribution, Zayn throws the task of finding entertainment for the reception at him. Of course, Liam finds someone easily and Zayn narrows his eyes and critiques the man’s webpage for a good thirty minutes before accepting.

         Their routine is thrown all out of whack when Liam is gone, but they are getting a little more of a routine since this is the sixth time in the last two years that Liam has had to be gone for more than two weeks. Somebody in his family, or Liam’s, usually crashes at Liam’s studio and helps him with the kids, but they’re never as in sync with him as Liam. He’ll always forget to tell them something vital and one of the kids’ schedules will be thrown off kilter. This time he forgets to tell Karen about Arya’s physical therapy sessions that Liam usually takes her to and Taj is pissed when nobody picks him up early from Mrs. Hardy’s on Wednesday.

         They talk to Liam every night after dinner, sometimes they Skype, or Facetime, or just a plain phone call, but the kids monopolize a lot of the talking time, and sometimes, Zayn just wants Liam to himself. Even though he knows that’s selfish and he knows that he texts Zayn nearly constantly, he doesn’t really like sharing not even with his own children.

         A week before Liam is expected back, Zayn gets a phone call from him late at night. He’s been up painting, and it’s nearly four in the morning, meaning it’s one where Liam is. His heartbeat accelerates because Liam is not prone to calling him at ungodly hours unless it’s an emergency. He braces himself for bad news and picks up the phone.

         “Hello?”

         “Zayn,” Liam calls into the phone and his name is slurred and dragged out on Liam’s lips.

         “Yeah.”

         “I’m sorry, so so sorry, babe,” Liam confesses into the phone, and Zayn can’t stop the metallic taste in his mouth, especially when Liam won’t stop muttering the phrase under his breath.

         “What are you sorry for?”

         “The other workers wanted to take me out, said I deserved a proper bachelor party. I told them I didn’t want to go, didn’t need no stinking party. Loved you too much, basically already married, just wanted to go home. They said I couldn’t go home and so I should go out with them. Which seemed like… logical… at the time, but it was stupid. And I’m sorry.”

         A bubble of laughter bursts over the phone to Liam as Zayn says, “Baby, that’s nothing to be sorry for. I’m glad you had fun with your friends. Now, drink some water and take some vitamin B before you go to bed; otherwise, you’ll definitely be feeling it in the morning.”

         “S’not that.” And in his mind’s eye, Zayn can see Liam drunkenly shaking his head as he hears Liam’s hair swish against the phone.

         “Just tell me.”

         “Lap-dance, they got me a lap-dance and he was all on me. I might have gotten a little hard, but I was mostly just embarrassed. “

         “Did you do anything about it?”

         “No, I came back and called you. I miss you.”

         “Did you want him?”

         “No, Zayn, no, I only want you. I miss you.”

         “I miss you too. Don’t worry, babe. I’m not mad.”

         “Are you sure?”

         “Liam, I’ve made more egregious errors that you’ve forgiven me for. I can forgive this one transgression.”

         “I don’t know what you just said, big words.”

         “I forgive you.”

         “I love you.”

         “Love you too, drink lots of water.”

         There’s a faint giggle before the line goes dead. He’s not all that upset. He’s a little jealous, but it’s more because he wants to be with Liam. It was a harmless lap dance that somebody else paid for. He would’ve laughed if he was there and at that point, with that thought, it doesn’t bother Zayn.

* * *

         When Liam returns to New York, there’s a hasty little tasks they both need to complete before the wedding at the end of November. Liam can see the stress on Zayn’s face, but his usual tactics of slow blowjobs and sensual back rubs are not working. Zayn is irritable; he snaps at Liam, Taj, and Arya. Taj nearly cries one night when Zayn says he’s too busy to read with him. Liam curls up with Taj on his twin-sized bed and reads a chapter even though he hates reading aloud and stumbles over words. Liam finds Zayn bent over his laptop at the dining room table typing aggressively.

         “What’s wrong with you?” Liam asks; frustration marring his voice.

         Zayn cackles nearly manically, “There’s so much to do.”

         “So let me help.”

         “Everything is finalizing things I did while you were gone.”

         “I can figure it out.”

         “But it needs to be perfect.”

         “Zayn, we’re not perfect; our wedding doesn’t need to be perfect.”

         “Yes, it does.”

         “Making me, Arya, and Taj feel like shit isn’t making our wedding perfect,” Liam accuses.

         “Go fuck yourself, Liam.”

         “Well, you’re definitely not going to so…” Liam trails off as he walks away.

         “It’s like you don’t even care.”

         “Wait, what? Excuse me, what did you say?”

         “You don’t care.”

         “About what? The wedding? Jesus, Zayn, are you fucking kidding me? I care about our wedding, but I care about our relationship and our kids more.”

         Zayn just makes a face at him that tells him he’s not kidding. Liam walks directly into Zayn’s personal space and grabs his face and kisses him. Zayn makes a surprised noise and their lips barely meld together while their teeth bump. Zayn grapples with where to put his hands but settles on Liam’s head. Liam drops his arms to Zayn’s hips and pushes him against the wall. Zayn wraps his legs around Liam’s hips and Liam drops his hands to under Zayn to keep him from falling. He carries Zayn haphazardly to their room as Zayn sucks bruises into his neck.

         They fall onto the bed and the headboard knocks loudly against the wall and it makes Zayn whole-heartedly laugh for the first time in days. Liam smiles as he digs his face into the crook of Zayn’s neck. Zayn roughly pushes down Liam’s pants and then gets rid of his own. He pulls Liam’s sweatshirt over his head and places open-mouthed kisses from his collarbone to his navel.

         “Can I?” Zayn asks looking up from under his lashes at Liam. His eyes on fire. It sends a coil of equal parts anticipation and apprehension through Liam. They don’t do this a lot, maybe a handful of times in the last year, but he nods quickly. He loves the way Zayn looks at him when he’s inside of Liam.

         “Words, Li.”

         “Yeah, Zayn, I want you to fuck me.”

         “Make love,” Zayn mumbles into his hip.

         “Zayn,” Liam hums softly, and Zayn keeps nipping at his thighs and hips, “Zayn, come here.”

         Zayn snorts and moves until he’s face to face with Liam, who kisses him slow and steady. Zayn grinds their hips together before reaching for the lube in their bedside table. While they’re still kissing, Zayn reaches down with well-lubed fingers and Liam gasps into his mouth but doesn’t protest. After a few minutes, he adds another finger and watches Liam’s face closely. There’s a little sign of discomfort but he bears it and pulls Zayn to him harshly to nip at his lips. After Zayn’s lubed up, he presses in slowly. Liam closes his eyes because the stretch is painful and he considers pushing Zayn away. Zayn moves incredibly slow, and the burn starts to turn to niggling pleasure. Zayn’s hips are now flush against his ass, and Zayn holds himself as still as possible. The look of concentration on Zayn’s face makes Liam love him all the more.

         “You can move,” Liam informs him softly. The questioning look Zayn sends him, Liam reassures with a smile. After a few strokes, Zayn moves more quickly and comes with a noise he muffles in Liam’s neck. He pulls out and falls next to Liam on the bed. He wraps his fingers around Liam’s erection until Liam’s hips buck off the mattress and he comes over Zayn’s fingers and onto his own stomach.

         “Chill about the wedding, okay babe?”

         “’Kay,” Zayn mumbles as he falls asleep.

         He does chill, some things fall to the wayside, but nothing of utmost importance and nothing that’s weighing down their relationships. Two weeks later they’re ready to get married. 

         The venue is beautiful and rustic, and Liam can’t think of a better place to get married. The set up is rather simple, just some elegant runners and a few bouquets. Nothing outlandish, it’s not them and while it frustrates Louis, he accepts it when Harry smacks him and reminds him that he’ll have his own wedding in a few months. Harry ushers Liam into his dressing room so he won’t see Zayn. It’s weird how people have been keeping them apart, and Liam just wants to see the slow smile and warm eyes. They haven’t willingly spent a night apart in over a year. He has his pants and undershirt on when there’s a knock at the door. He opens it to get bowled over by Taj.

         “Papa,” Arya chortles as she gestures to be picked up from the stroller Waliyha is pushing her in.

         “Hello, my beautiful flower girl,” Liam says, throwing her into the air.

         “Papa,” Taj laments, tugging at his pant leg.

         “Yes, my handsome ring bearer?”

         “It was weird without you today and yesterday.”

         “I was just gone for three weeks last month,” Liam laughs.

         “But it was weird because I knew you were on the next floor and I haven’t talked to you all day. I usually get to talk to you when you go on trips for work.”

         “I missed you guys too.”

         Arya sticks her thumb in her mouth and presses her face into Liam’s neck. She’s not usually cuddly, but Liam is the exception to that rule. She loves tucking her face so that her nose is in the dip of his collarbone. He kisses her crown of curls and she sighs heavily.

         “Tried to get her to take a nap, she wouldn’t,” Waliyha informs him.

         “Ari,” Liam admonishes and she just digs her face further into him.

         “Do you want me to take them with me?”

         “Nah, we’ve got a lot of time before the wedding and Zayn refuses to give me anything to do.”

         “That’s my brother for you.”

         “Go get ready, they can hang in here with me, maybe I’ll have Ari take a nap before she gets into her pretty little dress.”

         Taj immediately plops down in the armchair in the dressing area and takes out his tablet to play on. Arya looks at him interested, but then brings her head back down on Liam’s shoulder. She shifts and whimpers a little bit.

         “Come on, baby girl, you want to be awake for Daddy and Papa’s wedding. You need to go to sleep now,” Liam cajoles. Liam rocks back and forth, singing softly to her. Her eyes take awhile to close because she fights it. She finally does fall asleep and Liam sits on the little loveseat with her on his chest. He leans his head against the wall and falls asleep too. He wakes up, when the door opens and closes, to see Zayn pressed against the door.

         “Aren’t I not supposed to see you?” Liam asks groggily.

         “Wali told me she brought the kids and you were going to try to get Ari to nap. I knew that meant you were going to be falling asleep too.”

         “We weren’t supposed to see each other.”

         “Whatever, I couldn’t wait. I’m nervous as all…” he trails off when Taj looks up sharply, anticipating the expletive, “And I missed you. You keep me calm and I’m running around barking at people and you made me promise not to ruin today. And I’m ruining it. And I wanted to make sure you were here. Waliyha said you were here, but I just needed to see you. Make sure you didn’t realize what a horrible mistake you were making.”

         “You’re an idiot, of course I’m here. You three are the best things that have ever happened to me. You’re not ruining it, calm down and come here.”

         Zayn slides into the small space that’s left on the loveseat. Arya stirs and glances at Zayn and reaches one hand out to put it on Zayn’s arm. Her eyes shutter close again.

         “Anyways, I’m the one who probably would’ve slept through our wedding,” Liam confesses and Zayn laughs, “I didn’t sleep well at all last night.”

         Zayn leans his head against Arya’s on Liam’s shoulder and intertwines their fingers together. Liam kisses Zayn’s hand and closes his eyes again. They sit there like that until the door slams open and Louis lets out a frustrated yelp.

         “You two lovebirds, up and at ‘em, you need to get dressed and stop being all domesticated. You need to go back to your room. The little one is with the girls and the young gentleman is with Haz. You both need to get dressed in your respective outfits and stop breaking all the rules imaginable. You need a little separation before you say I do.”  

         Liam gets dressed by himself and there’s a little part of him that’s nervous, but it’s his usual social anxiety. He’s scared about looking stupid, making Zayn look stupid. He’s not all that worried about the marriage itself. This ceremony is just a formality. He knows it’s important to their moms and to the kids and to their friends, but he already feels married to Zayn. He doesn’t need the government to tell him the status of their relationship, but it is nice that they can give this ceremony to the people they love. Niall comes in a half an hour before the ceremony. He looks good in his suit. He smiles; the usual wattage even brighter today.

         “Nervous?”

         “Only of looking stupid.”

         “Well, that’s good. It’s not like you two aren’t basically married anyways.”

         “Yeah,” Liam agrees.

         “I heard Zayn is being a lunatic.”

         Liam laughs and shakes his head, “He wants it to be perfect.”

         “I wouldn’t know whose wedding I was at if it were perfect.”

         “That’s what I said.”

         “He thinks you’re perfect, you know, that’s why he wants to make it perfect.”

         Liam scoffs, “He knows I’m not perfect. I can barely write a sentence without misspelling a word.”

         “But you’re perfect to him.”

         “Niall, I hate when you do this.”

         “Do what?”

         “Get all philosophical on me.”

         Niall laughs at that, “You’re right, how ‘bout I do a toast instead?”

         “Booze, that’s more like it.”

         Niall gets them two craft beers that Louis demanded they have and they toast the wedding. The cold amber liquid feels good as it trickles down Liam’s throat. He chews a piece of gum to get rid of the smell, and he enjoys the slight looseness it adds to his muscles. He doesn’t know if it’s the alcohol or the mere drinking with Niall that gives him the flexibility he so desperately needs.

         Neither of them walks down the aisle, they just meet each other at the altar, Louis by Zayn’s side and Niall by Liam’s. Their kids, however, do walk down the aisle to them, Taj pushing Arya in a decked-out stroller. Taj stands pressed against Zayn and Liam holds Arya. They say the traditional vows, Liam worried about being able to articulate his feelings if they had to write theirs. They involve the kids in the ceremony, offering them both necklaces to show their commitment as a family. Taj is elated and hugs them both tightly. Arya tries to pull hers off to get a better look. When the officiant tells them to, they kiss and Liam feels a spark in the kiss that he hopes isn’t static but probably is.

         It takes the staff nearly half an hour to transform the space into their reception area, so they have a cocktail half-an-hour hour in the foyer area. Zayn and Liam take pictures with the kids, even venturing outside. The cutest pictures results from an accidental trip and the resulting cuddle session.

         The reception is fun. Louis and Niall make long, boisterous best man speeches, constantly trying to outdo the other. Harry and Taj rip up the dance floor and make everybody laugh. Their friends and families are so happy to be there and everybody is so happy that Liam wants the moment to last forever. Of course, it can’t.

         They drop droopy-eyed Taj and Arya off with Waliyha who’s already changed quickly into her pajamas. They head to their room and Zayn is kissing Liam before they even close the door. They’re both nearly naked when Liam’s phone starts ringing. Zayn glares menacingly at him.

         “I thought I turned that off, I swear.”

         Zayn sighs, but rolls off of Liam, “You might as well pick it up.”

         “Hello?” Liam answers.

         “We want to stay with you,” Taj whines into the phone without greeting.

         “But you’re going to have fun with Aunt Waliyha. She’s going to take you guys out tomorrow.”

         “But we want to be with you guys. We just got married.” Taj’s statement makes Liam snort into his arm, but it also kind of melts his resolve.

         “The kids want to come upstairs,” Liam tells Zayn who vigorously shakes his head no, “Taj says ‘We just got married.’” Zayn chuckles and Liam can see him giving in.

         “Okay, but you owe me,” Zayn says, and Liam accepts that because Zayn’s threats usually work out well for him.

         They get into the sweatpants that they were hoping not to wear and wait for Waliyha to bring the kids upstairs. There’s a soft knock and then a lot of little knocks before they get to the door. Taj smiles up at them and runs to jump on the large king-sized bed.

         “I’m sorry,” Waliyha says, but they shoo her back to her room without a worry.

         The four of them climb onto the bed with the kids in the middle. The kids snuggle down quickly and Arya’s eyes are dancing closed before Zayn even turns off the lights. Taj falls asleep quickly too and now, Liam and Zayn are just staring at each other. They link hands above the kids’ head and smile at each other.

         “I love you.”

         “I love you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's insane that this is the end. I hope you enjoyed the ride!  
> I have really appreciated all of your feedback on this story and I look forward to reading more.  
> Look out for drabbles from this "universe". You can subscribe to the series if you'd like to be kept updated.  
> I will be editing this before I move onto the drabbles. Nothing drastic, just grammatical and structure things. Plot definitely won't change.

**Author's Note:**

> I appreciate any and all feedback!  
> Thank you so much to those who have commented and kudos-ed!  
> Hopefully, this will be updated once a week.  
> Let me know if there are any errors; I tend to write/type too fast and only skim when reviewing.  
> 


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